Twisted Nightmare
by Keiko Sahara
Summary: Everybody knows the nice and kind Italy. Everybody treated him like a piece of land, while he just sat there and took it.What would happen if Italy were to finally snap? Who would have to pay for his suffering?
1. South Italy

**Twisted Nightmare**

**A Hetalia Fic**

I don't own Hetalia, that is done by the God that is Himruya Hidekaz (Worships...)

_This is based on a dream I had while reading a story called How The World Lost Its Sanity by Inquzitive Dreams. I had the end of this dream after reading the second chapter and I also dreamed the first part when I was sick with very bad allergies. I hope you enjoy it as much as I had writing it. I hope it turns out perfect. For this story's sake, the houses are near each other, sort of like less than 2 hours away and stuff. Here I go._

_Warning:_

_May include blood, gore, and character death._

Chapter 1: Italy

Romano groans as he walks towards his home, the sun beating down on his sweat soaked shirt. He pushes his brown hair out of his eyes, the bangs sticking to his forhead andblocking his vision. He had had it, everything about this day was going wrong. From his and Venciano's boss fussing him out to even stepping in gum that was stuck on the sidewalk, this day had been filled with nothing but downs. He had called Italy earlier today and told him everything as he was coming back. Italy only told him to calm down and the day would get better. It didn't, even his mopead had broken down, causing the nation to have to walk back home, leaving the vehicle abandoned where anybody could take it. He wipes the sweat off his forhead, panting in the heat of the streets, the Global Warming making its precence known to the nation. If he came back and his mopead was gone, he would go on a rampage to get it back. He heads towards the house, growling as he sees this guy just staring at him as he mumbled to himself. He didn't know who the guy was, but right now to Romano, he was a bastard. He grumbles and gets to the house, walking up the steps, hoping that at least the Airconditioning was still working. He enters his house, expecting Veneciano to be at the front door, all smiles. Instead, nobody was at the door, only the cold welcoming air blowing in his house. There was no smell of cooking pasta in the air. All in all, nothing was right.

He growls, "Little bro..." Romano doesn't see anything, nor hears anything, not even a whispered ~ve~. Romano groans, "Veneciano, do you have that potato bastard over here again?" That would just complete his bad day.

Romano doesn't get any answer, it was like Veneciano wasn't even here. Romano growls, tossing his uniform jacket and his tie. His red shirt was soaked with sweat from walking through the heat. He walks towards the kitchen, spotting no sign of his little brother. There was ingredents out, like he was about to make something but had stopped suddenly and left them abandoned on the counter. Romano pauses, straining to hear over the sound of the air conditioner popping on, hoping to hear his little brother walking around. He looks back at the abandoned ingredents on the counter, the oven set on 400 degrees, still running. Romano picks up the green peppers, his heart leaping to his throat. This was strange, even for his little brother. Veneciano never left in the middle of a reciepe. Something was very wrong. Romano was starting to get worried, looking frantically around the empty house, placing the pepper down. Where was North Italy? Romano peeks his head into the dining room, expecting to see his brother sitting at the table. Instead, not a chair was out of place. Nothing. Now Romano was really worried, how he wished he had a tomato by his side, for protection. But, they had no tomato's around. He had used them to fight off France after he decided to raid his house.

"Veneciano?" He dashes into the living room again, "Feliciano?" He yells, not one noise heard other than his own voice and the steady humm of the air conditioner.

Where was his little brother? Sure, he may be the favorite, and get more attention, and hang out with Germany more than Romano, and he also...

Romano gasps, grinning, "Why didn't I think of that sooner?" He turns to look at the clock, smirking.

It was 3:20 pm, Venecaino never missed out on a siesta. His little brother was probally asleep in the bedroom. He hits his forehead at his stupidity. Worrying over nothing. Today was a rough day. He walks down the hall, heading toward's the sibling's room that they shared together. He sighs, he worried too easily, Veneciano had always told him that. Maybe today would get better, after all, Veneciano's smile was contagious. He grabs the handle to the door, opening it wide.

"Found you little bro, now..." Romano's eyes go wide in shock, staring down the barrele of a pistol, Veneciano smirking evilly. Romano backs up, "CHIGIGI?" He squeaks out, looking with wide eyes at Veneciano. "What the hell are you doing?" He says, his heart racing in fear.

"What's the matter nii-chan?" Veneciano chuckles out, his eyes wide in maddness, "Had a bad day?" He cocks back the firing pin, Romano's breath hitching at the sound of the click.

"Feli...put the gun down." Romano begs, "Per favore.." He has his back to the wall, Veneciano stepping from the dark room.

"Why should I brother?" Veneciano replies.

"Feliciano?" Romano looks up at Veneciano, his amber eyes pleading against crazed ones, "Please, don't shoot!" He yells, seeing Veneciano's finger twitch on the trigger. "Why are you doing this?" He asks, his heart in his throat.

Veneciano tilts his head to the side, "Why, you ask?" He grins, "Vendetta." Romano eyes go wide at the word.

Romano gulps, "V-vendetta? Revenge, but...what did I do?" He yelps out, looking for someway out of this stand off.

"What did you do?" Veneciano smirks, "Nothing at all mi fratello..." Veneciano's smirk goes away, replaced by a scowl, "And that's all you ever did, nothing. Aiddo!" He pulls the trigger.

Romano grabs the lamp next to him and hurls it at Veneciano. Romano yells out in pain as the bullet hits his shoulder, the hot lead searing through him and into the wall behind him. He grabs his arm in pain and dashes down the hall, desperate to escape from his maddened brother. Veneciano ducks the lamp, the crash echoing in the room they shared together. He looks up as Romano heads for the door, avoding the glass shards everywhere. He turns, aiming the gun at him again. The fleeing Italian is stumbling, trying to stay upright as he tears down the hall at full speed. Veneciano narrows his eyes, glaring hatefully at the older twin.

"Where are you going brother?" Veneciano growls out, shooting at him again.

Romano yelps as a vase near him shatters into a million pieces, Romano picking up speed. He shakes his head, the water and glass raining down on him. He hisses as the shards of glass cut into his face, and stick into his feet, causing the nation pain at every step.

Veneciano walks towards the end of the hall, the gun still raised at his brother, "Are you scared?" He asks, shooting again.

Romano gasps, feeling the bullet so close to his ear, he could feel the heat from discharge. He closes his eyes, tears streaming down his cheeks as he picks up the pace, heading for the door.

"TOO BAD!" Veneciano yells out, shooting at Romano again.

"CHIGIGI!" Romano yells as the bullet catches the back of his leg, crippling the nation. He feels the bullet stop, lodged in his femur bone, feeling the worst pain in his life. He falls down, hitting the floor and skidding to a stop, the blood allready soaking into the carpet from his wounds.

He turns over, seeing Veneciano standing over him, the gun aimed for his head. Romano pushes himself back with his good arm and leg, desperate to get away from Veneciano. "STOP! STOP! Auito! Perché hai fatto questo mio fratello?" He yelps out, "Don't shoot, Devo fare qualcosa proprio non sparare!" Tears stream down his face.

_Feliciano? Why are you doing this, mi fratello? Why are you trying to kill me? Please, don't kill me, don't do this!_

Veneciano pauses, looking down on his brother. "Why?" He asks, looking confused.

_Italy...thank God, he's snapping out of this maddness. That's it, fight it, Feli~_

Romano sighs, thinking that his brother had snapped out of it, "Because I'm bored." He says, re-aiming the gun at Romano's head.

_What the-_

A loud sound echos throughout the room, Romano's eyes going wide in surprise. He goes limp, a feeling of fire hitting his head. He looks at his brother with fading vision, a smirk creeping on his once kind brother's face.

_Perché hai fatto questo mio fratello?_

**I told you it was a weird dream. I called Italy Veneciano to deferintiate him from his brother Romano. They are both Italy, so I could just call Italy, Italy. Sorry if Italy's OOC, it will be explained in further chapters. I was sick when I had this dream (Or should I call it nightmare?) so there might be some incositances. I will try to keep them to a mininum though. Its from different character's view points. The first part is Romano Italy's but I called it Italy for short. Each Chapter will have a different view point of a character...**

**Mixalis: Wow, didn't think you had it in you to make Italy a bad guy.**

**Keiko: Hey, I told you, I was sick, it was my exhausted brain that came up with this mess, don't blame me, ve.**

**Mixalis: Whatever you say, but this is twisted, even for you. The sweet lovable Italy we all know and love, tainted by maddness. For shame...**

**Keiko: Not me, blame this one on sickness and 'How The World Lost Its Sanity'**

**Mixalis: Whatever, I'm staying away from you. Poor Romano, and I liked him too...**

_Perché hai fatto questo mio fratello?- Why did you do this my brother?_

_Devo fare qualcosa proprio non sparare- I'll do anything just don't shoot!_


	2. Spain

Chapter 2: Spain

Spain walks towards the Italy's house, a bag of tomatos in his hands. He was whistling a happy tune, hoping to surprise Italy. He had called earlier, asking Spain if he had a tomatos. Spain, had told him no, but that was so he could surprise him with the best one's he had. Italy had told him he was making a big surprise for Romano, and he needed the tomatos. Spain grins, looking at the bag filled to the brim with his best tomatos. He hoped that Romano wouldn't waste these as well, so Italy could actually cook these. He was enjoying the nice summer afternoon, the sun setting slightly, the sun's warmth still bearing down on the Italian streets. Spain smiles, walking y a parked red mopead, much like his Romano's Mopead. He laughs, he couldn't wait to see the look on Italy's face when he walk through the door with these beatuties. The ripe plump tomatos were almost bursting with falvor, grown to perfection in Spain's own special garden. He looks up, wondering excatly Italy would need with all the tomatos, besides for Romano to throw them at him again.

"He must be making a big dinner for my Romano~." He grins, "I wonder what Itay will cook?" He starts lisiting stuff, counting on his fingers, "Pizza~? Pasta~? Lasagna~?" He sighs, "All he said it was a surprise, he must be making all three." He says happily.

He stops, hearing yelling coming from the direction of their house, along with a sound that had Spain frozen in fear. Gunshots. It was Romano's yells ringing through the afternoon air, Spain gasping in shock, his heart leaping to his throat. His Romano was under attack. He drops the bag to the ground, the tomato's splating on the ground. Spain takes off running, rushing towards the house as the yells get more desperate, switching to Italian. The viice sounds more and more frantic, desperate, pleading for his life. Spain was panicing, finally seeing the Italy Twin's house and rushing to the front door. Spain reaches for the handle when he hears a single shot shatter the air, Romano's yells silenced. The world drops from under Spain, freezing as a aura hits him, making the usually happy go lucky nation's demeaner darken in fear and despair. Spain yells, kicking down the door, looking around the darknened house, the only light on is the kitchen light and the sun light shining through the blinds. He was breathing raggedly, looking around in mixed fear and anger. He spots Romano's uniform and tie abandoned on the couch, an omnious feeling coming over the nation. He dashes towards the hall, heading for Romano and Veneciano's room. He stops, seeing Italy walk from the darknened hall, a gun in his hand, not eve noticng Spain. Spain gasps, Italy looks in his direction, a murderous look in his amber eyes. Spain is taken back, not use to the Younger Italian's eyes being so hateful.

"Italy..." Spain gasps out, his heart going out to Italy, worried for his safety. "What's going on? I heard Romano ye-" Spain's green eyes widden, the older nation backing up. Italy is walking at him, the gun pointed at Spain's chest. "Que.." Spain gulps, falling back onto the couch as he backs away from Italy, "Italia?"

Italy growls, his eyes darkening, "I have no beef with you." He replies, coldly. He cocks back the firing pin, "But...you've come at the wrong time." The sound makes Spain wince, Italy's voice coming out all wrong, no kindness in it at all.

"Italy!" Spain says, not understanding what was going on, "W-W-What are you talking about?"

Italy puts on a fake smile, tilting his head to the side, his eyes closing, looking like himself. But at the same time, resembled a snake, who was closing in on its poisoned prey. "Wrong place, wrong time, I'm sorry." He says, pulling the trigger.

Spain feels a sharp, molten pain pierce through his shoulder, just missing his vital heart. The nation hollers out in agony, squeezing his eyes shut as the bullet tears through muscle and bone, exitting out the other side. He crumples to the floor, blood going everywhere, hitting Italy on the cheek and arms. Spain falls limp, unable to move from the agony coursing through him, instead curling up in a ball, struggling to breath. Italy, thinking he was a dead man steps over him, reloading his gun as he steps out the door. He turns back, spotting the limp for of the Spanish man in his living room. Already a small pool of blood was soaking into the light blue carpet. Spain pushes himself up as he hears the slam of the door, cringing at the stabbing pain in his chest. He grasps his chest in pain, still trying to piece together what had just happened just then. He stands up, stumbling toward's the hall, suddenly worried for Romano's own safety. He braces himself against the hall wall, panting as he struggles to breath, the bullet going through his left lung. He looks up, gasping at the sight he saw before him, tears welling up in his eyes. Romano laid sprawled out on the ground, unmoving, his wide amber eyes dull and lifeless. Spain covers his mouth in horror, struggling not to yell and alert Italy that he wasn't dead.

"R...Romano..." He kneals down beside Romano, in pure shock. "Romano...NO!" He cradles Romano's head in his arms, giving up on not being quiet. "Speak to me, por favor!" The sobbing damaging him even more, hardly able to take any breaths.

Romano doesn't move, Spain crying out as he clutched him in his arms. Spain lays him down lovingly, his vision blurring from the tears forming in his eyes. He pushes himself up, gasping in pain, stumbling from the loss of blood and oxygen. He needed help, if he stayed here, he would bleed out, he could already feel his chest feeling up with blood. He stumbles towards the kitchen, the light shining from the lit room. He spots the phone on the counter and grasps it, staining the white phone with a bloody hand print. As he grasps it, the mount falls, stretching the cord from the phone. He dails the phone shakiedly, calling the only friend he knew that was almost next door to the Italy's house. The phone starts to rung, Spain seeing spots in his vision.

"Por favor, estar en casa. Respuesta." Spanish breathes out, his vision going in and out.

"Bonjour, parlant Francis. Qui appelle, je vous prie?" France answers in his smooth voice.

Spain gasps out, feeling his vison start to fade from the blood loss. He tries to control his sobbing as he realises the siuation he was in. His Romano was dead, and now he was dying. He was so releaved to hear France's voice, knowing he would get help and hofully warn everybody of what Italy was doing. He still couldn't believe that Italy, the one he called Ita-chan, had shot and killed Romano, and shot him as well.

France hears him and gasps worriedly, "Spain?" He stands up from his chair, "What's wrong?" Spain tries to answer, but can't, "Antonio! Answer me!" Spain groans, clasping his chest as he falls to the ground, France jumping at the loud noise, "ANTONIO!" He says, grasping his hair, almost pulling the silky locks off his scalp.

Spain grabs the phone, unable to keep upright anymore, "Ayúdame!" He gasp, "Ayúdame...He recibido un disparo...I've been shot..." He groans, taking a deep breath, his breathing becoming more difficult by the second. "It...Ital..." He coughs, sounding like he was drowning almost.

_No, don't pass out now. I have to warn him._

"SHOT? Sacre bleu! Who did it? Spain! Antonio? Oh mon dieu. I'm coming, I'll be right there, oui!" He doesn't hear anything, his heart leaping into his throat, "Antonio? What about Italy?" He growls, still no response. He hangs up the phone, dailing another number. "I need some help ." He says, pacing as the phone rings once, twice, thr-.

He hears the phone picked up, a loud voice on the other end pickig it up. "Francis!" Prussia says, "I'm glad you called I ne-"

"Antonio has been shot!" France yelps out.

Prussia forgets about whatever he was beginning to ask France, his concern level skyrocketing, "WAS ZUM TEUFEL?" He yelps out, Germany jumping in the next room. His pen flies across the page messing up his journal. "What the hell happened? Who did it?" Prussia yells out, pulling his hair in worry.

Germany pokes his head into the room, seeing Prussia worried out of his mind. He keeps spying, not wanting Prussia knowing that he was looking. He was curious, his brother had just yelled 'What', loud enough to make him notice.

France groans, pacing and grabbing his hair as he paced around the room, the cord wrapping around him, "I don't know, but he's over at Italy's house and-"

"Birde?" Prussia yells out, Germany growing worried.

"Yes, and Antonio...he...he stopped talking, I need some help." He says, trying to get untangeled from the cord.

Prussia groans, pacing around, "I wouldn't get over there in time. Just hurry up and get there, if Spain's in trouble, Birde and his bruder might be in trouble as well." He says, Germany now very worried. "Go get Antonio, now!" He yells into the phone, "I'll send somebody, now get going, Francis!" He yells out.

"Oui! Oui!" France says, hanging up the phone and rushing towards Italy's house.

Spain groans, his vision returning breifly, the room darker than he remembered it being. He growls as he moves, bring the phone towards his mouth, "Ita...Italy did it..." He breathes out, "He killed...Romano...he..." He faints, not hearing the beeping of the disconnected phone.

His urgent message was never heard.

**Yes, still doing this dreadful story. I hate that I'm making Italy out to be such a bad guy, ugh. I feel horrible. I'm writting this while I'm sick and unable to do anything. I'll post this up soon as I get better, which will be soon. I wish I could get wireless now. This bites, and yesterday my computer threatened to not have internet, well my dad's computer. This is the first story in a lng time that I've ritten down on paper instead of typing it up first, and its turned out well. Maybe I should do this more often.**

**Mixalis: Keiko, focus, story. Must write more, and don't you usually portray Prussia as dead after 1947?**

**Keiko: Well, the dream had him in it and besides, I wanted this story to focus on the Bad Touch Trio as well, they are the best, and I just love the awesome! **

**Mixalis: Just get to the next chapter already, I'm dying here!**

**Keiko: You're never this enthustiastic about my Kingdom Hearts stories.**

**Mixalis: That's because you on't tell me what the dream was about and how it ends! And I WANT TO KNOW!**

**Keiko: You 'll have to wait till the next chapter Mixa..**

**Mixalis: ****Scheiße**

_Spanish Terms_

_Que - What?_

_Italia- Italy (If you didn't know that you should be slapped)_

_Por favor, estar en casa. Respuesta. - Please be home. Answer._

_Ayúdame__!- Help me!_

_He recibido un disparo- I have been shot_

_French Terms_

_Bonjour, parlant Francis. Qui appelle, je vous prie__?- Hello, Francis speaking. Who is calling, may I ask?_

_Sacre Bleu!- Holy Shit!_

_Oh mon dieu!- Oh my god!_

_Oui- Yes (Another obvious one)_

_German Terms_

_Was Zum Teufel?- What the fuck?_


	3. Prussia

Chapter 3: Prussia

Prussia hangs up the phone, grumbling and running his ahnds through his silver locks. He was still in shock about hearing the news. Spain was one of his best friends, and here he had heard he was shot and alone. For all he knew, his friend could be dead, and he wouldn't be able to make it in time. He felt so useless at this point in time, just wanting to punch something, to kick. He was a mess, trying not to yell out in anger and saddness to alert his brother what was going on. Gilbird flies up, avoiding the worried hands as he ruffled his hair. Germany looks at his brother, wondering what he had been talking about, and what it had to do with Italy. Prussia looked like he was about to cry, and Germany was now worried about his mental state. And if Prussia was upset, then what happened to Italy? His stomach twisted at just the thought of anything happening to Italy. The short nation had a special place in his heart, and Germany was really starting to worry. Germany walks out of the room, Prussia spotting him come out of the room. He looks at Germany, trying to keep back the tears threatening to come.

"Prussia?" Germany says, "What about Italy? What's the matter?"

_Oh man, West? _

Prussia looks at Germany's face, seeing the concern written all over it.

_This is bad, how much has he heard? I can't tell him about Birde, he flip and get hurt himself! _

He straightens himself up, "West." He smiles a fake smile, "Um...nothing, nothing's the matter, everything is fine." He says, laughing out, "Antonio just tripped and fell at thier house, and France is on his way to get him to the hospital." He says, rubbing the back of his head, Gilbird landing back on his head.

Germany sighs, feeling that his brother was lying to him. He knew Prussia was holding something back and didn't want to pressure Prussia to tell him.

"Ok, if you says so..." He say, hoping Prussia would tell him the truth.

Prussia groans, he hated lying to his brother, but if he told Germany that Spain was shot at Italy's house, he would rush over without thinking and probably get hurt just like Antonio did. He grins, this time Germany looks in confusion, seeing the censere smile on his brothers face.

"Yeah, I was just so worried about Antonio, sorry about that. Go on back to whatever you were doing, kay. The awesome me has this handled." He says, trying to keep the act together for Germany's sake.

Germany sighs heading back to his room, "Alright, I'll be in my office if you need me." He gets ready to close the door when he leaves it open just a crack, hoping to hear what Prussia was saying more clearly.

_Das war knapp_

Prussia grabs the phone and rushes into the next room, knowing Germany's little tricks. He had rasied Germany, he had actually taught Germany all the tricks. He need to call somebody, he was worried about France going over to the Italy Twin's house by himself. France needed back up, but who to call? He gasp, an idea forming in his head, it was flawed but he was the only person closer to France than Prussia was. He dails the phone, tapping his foot impatiently as the phone begins to ring.

"Los..." He breathes out, pacing the living room. "Greifen Sie zum Telefon."

"Hullo?" He hears the strong british accent over the phone, "Who is this?"

Prussia sighs in relief that England had actually answered the phone, but quickly goes back to his pacing, "Arthur, listen, its me, Gilbert. You know, Prussia." Prussia says, his voice higher than normal in worry, "Listen, I need you to head toward's Italy's house. France needs some help."

England growls, "I'm not helping that wino!" He goes to hang up.

"Wait! Bitte!" Prussia pleads, "Spain's been shot." He says, tears going down his cheeks.

England puts down his cup of tea, almost choking on it. Prussia waits while he hears England try and cough up a lung, the nation hacking and grasping his throat. England places the cellphone down, China looking at him strangely. England takes a deep breath, trying to take it all in. A nation had been shot, somebody actually had it in them to shot a nation. This was bad. England picks up the phone, panic rising in his chest.

England stands up, walking around, "WHAT?" He gasps out, "What happened?"

"I don't know, but France is on his way to help him now. Could you met him up there?" Prussia says, glad that England was still up there. Usually anything about France had the nation ignoring anything he had to say.

England groans, "I'm not home right now, Prussia. I wouldn't get there in time." He groans, looking around China's house.

The relief in Prussia goes down hill, his stomach paining him as it twisted and turned in guilt. England was the only one who was within walking distance to France and Italy's house that would actually still speak to him.

Prussia groans, "Man, I hope France doesn't encounter any danger over there. But thanks for not hanging up." Prussia sighs, "Bye."

England sighs, "I wish I could help...Bye." He says, hanging up the phone.

Prussia sighs, putting the phone down on the tabel before collapsing onto the chair, "Ugh." He looks up at Gilbird, "I hope France gets there in time...what could've happened?" Prussia groans, "I hope Birde is ok, West would kill me if he found out I knew that something bad was happening at his Birde's house." He sighs, kicking back the recliner, "Das ist schlecht..." He groans, not knowing just 'how' bad the siuation was.

**This was a short chapter, sorry. I just had to show what I thought Prussia was doing and fill in the blanks that the dream left out. This didn't happen, but I kinda figure this is what happened and it makes the story flow better. Plus, today is my birthday. I'm 19 today and its funny that I share a birthday with France nii-chan. (July the 14th) But, yeah, I loaded this up early because it is just a filler. I was meant to load it up last night but I was too lazy.**

**Mixalis: If it wasn't in the dream, why'd you put it up here?**

**Keiko: I said at the beginning I would fill in the incosistancies that the dream left out. **

**Mixalis: Oh, yeah, I forgot, well, I like this. Though, getting England to help France? Prussia should've known better.**

**Keiko: Well, Spain's sort of out of the picture so who else could Prussia call?**

**Mixalis: Good point...now...CONTINUE WITH THE ITALY PART! I'm on the edge of my seat waiting for the update.**

**Keiko: Be patient, Mixa, be patient.**

**Mixalis: Evil (Points at Keiko and walks away)**

**Keiko: I really need to find Russia so I can get some more Vodka for Mixa, she acts weird without her Vodka.**

**Mixalis: HEY! Oh, happy birthday, Keiko *hugs***

**Keiko: WOW? O_o? Is this a trap?**

**Mixalis: Nah, just saying happy birthday. And just letting you know, I'm never going to give you up, I'm not going to let you down. Ok, Kay.**

**Keiko: Aww, that's sweet of you, Mixa.**

**Mixalis: You just got Rick Roll'd by the way. **

**Keiko: NO!**

_Das war knapp- That was close_

_Los- Come on._

_Greifen Sie zum Telefon- Pick up the phone._

_Das ist schlecht- This is bad_


	4. France

Chapter 4: France

France rushes towards Italy's house, his heart in his throat. The nation was panicing, running through the Italian streets like a mad man. He dashes between a couple getting ready to kiss, knocking the man down on the ground. Usuallly, this behavior would've appalde France by now, but he was on a mission. He was worried out of his mind, love the last thing he was thinking about. He was praying that Spain was still alive. He turns down a corner, almost tripping over an abandoned mopead, growling in anger.

_Who in the world would park their mopead right here?_

France looks back at the mopead, something tugging at him, but ignores it, continuing on his mad dash. He had called the Hospital before he left and they were supposedly on their way, prepared to pick up three injured people. He was hoping everybody was ok, especially Italy and Spain. Spain was close to him, them being best friends since they were little, and he couldn't bear to lose him. He was the only one who wouldn't kick him out of his house upon arriving at the front door, besides Prussia. He turns another corner, sheilding his eyes from th glare of the setting sun. He spots the house down the way, his heart racing in fear. The front door was opened, the dark house seeming empty and dead. It was like it was an abandoned building rather than one of the nicest houses on the block.

_That's not a good sign. __Pas bon du tout!_

He rushes into the door, almost tripping over a bag of grocries dropped in the middle of the floor. "SPAIN!" He yells, looking around the darkened room, straining his blue eyes to adjust to the sudden darkness of the house.

He rushes towards the kitchen, smelling something burning, as if he was at England's house. The house was slightly smokey, making it difficult to breath for the nation. He looks into the kitchen, seeing the light was still on. He dashes over there, cover his mouth with his sleeve. He rushes around the couch, to go turn off whatever was buring in the stove when he stops, his heart skipping a beat. He lets his arm fall to his side, tears welling up in his eyes at the sight.

He freezes in horror as he saw Spain laid out, the phone still gripped tightly in his blood covered hand, "ANTONIO!" He yells out, rushing to his friend's side, seeing the blood sorrounding the nation and soaking into the carpet. "Speak to me, mon ami!" France yells, shaking Spain, his green eyes blinking slightly as he reacts to being shook.

Spain clenches his fist, his head turning slightly to look up at France, France smiling in relief, "Ro...mano..." Spain begins before fainting again. France looks around the smoked filled house, trying to see through the black fog.

"Don't worry Spain, I'll find him." He says, standing up. "Romano?" France yells out, dashing into the kitchen, not seeing the nation in there.

He spots the smoke coming from inside the oven, yelping in surprise. He rushes over, turning the oven of and opening it. He jumps back as the flames lick up at him, trying to catch his golden locks in its grasp. He grabs the foacuet sprayer and turns on the water, spraying it directly into the inferno. He gsighs in relief as the flames go down, going completely down as he fills the oven with water. He puts his hand over his heart, as the smoke starts to clear, being pushed out the front door by the open window in the kitchen. He shakes his head, his mind back on the matter at hand, he had to find Romano, and Italy. He peeks in the dining room, still not spotting any sign of Italy twins. France starts to get worried, he knew how much Spain loved Romano.

_Where is he? I hope I can find him, before it is too late._

He dashes through the dining room, exitting in the hall, squinting his eyes through the remaining smoke. He freezes, gasping and taking a step back, his eyes going wide in disbelief. He places his hand over his mouth, looking at the heart renching sight, the white walls covered in red.

"Merde Sainte!" He yelps out, seeing that the nation had been shot numerous times to get him in the state France found him in.

Romano was a mess, France's heart skipping a beat. One leg was sprawled out, red seeping into the torn pants, a torn behind the knee, showing where the bullet went in. His arm lay limpily to the side bloodied and covered in glass as was the side of his cheek. His feet were torn up and blood, shards of glass proturding from the bottom of the souls, telling the story of what had happened to the nation. And the one that tore at France's heart, the finishing blow. The nation's head was tilted to the side, the carpet a dark color around his arburn hair.

"No, no, no." He breaths out, shaking his head as he kept looking at Romano, the nation's eyes dim and unmoving, slightly closed. He closes his eyes, tears threatening to pour as he trembled in regret.

_Je suis trop tard_

He gasps, his eyes going wide at the thought that had snuck its way into his head.

_Where is Italy?_

If his brother was dead, then what about Italy's fate? France begins to head for the bedroom when he hears a loyd noise, freezing in fear. He looks into the living room, seein Spain trying to pull himself up by the couch. France rushes back, heading for Spain as he was falling back Onto the ground, his white shirt stained crimson red.

France catches him, struggling to hold him up, the blood feeling cold on his hands. France sighs deepily, cradling his life long friend in his arms, trying to keep from sobbing.

_I need to stay together, for his sake. If I lose it now, what will Antonio do?_

It was decided. Right now, he had to help the one he knew was still alive, "Antonio, please try and stand up. I can't hold you up, you're too heavy." He says, struggling to keep a hold of the knocked out Spain.

Spain groans, opening his feverish eyes "Italy...gun..." Spain tries to get out the words, his voice coming out ragged, his breathing troubled from the bullet and the smoke.

France stops, "Italy? Oh mon dieu. Please tell me he's no..." He stops, not knowing if Spain knew that Romano was dead.

Spain tears up, his body shaking as the sobs come, "Italy...Italy shot me, and Ro...Romano..." He cries out, holding his chest in pain, throwing his arms around France's neck. France looks in shock, Spain pushing himself up, France supporting him as he almost fell again, "He shot Lovino. He did it, it was Feliciano." He says, clinging onto France's neck, just barely hnaging on as France held him up. His once kind and happy go luck spirit was gone, his green eyes a darker, more hurt shade.

France's eyes go wide in shock, his breath catching in his throat at the statement. "ITALIE? Surely it wasn't!" He couldn't believe it. He just couldn't imagine his sweet Italy ever pulling a gun on another nation, much less pulling the trigger. "Are you sure?" He asks, wrapping his arms around Spain as the nation's arms released his neck, coughing up blood.

Spain nods, wincing at the movement, "Si." He groans, "It was Italy, he-"

A small sound, as soft as the wind across a feild of wheat, drifts through the darkening house, almost the voice of an angel. They both freeze hearing the small noise, so soft they almost missed it. They think its just their imagination when they hear it again, France looking back at the hall, where he knew no noise should be coming from.

_Can it be?_

"Au...uit...o...mei." The small weak voice gasps out, like the flutter of a dying bird.

France gasps as he sees Romano's leg move slowly in pain from the hall, the limb seeming to twitch and spasm, "Au...ito...mei." The voice pleads again, France smiling in joy. He slings Spains arm over his neck, helping Spain toward's Romano. Spain wasin pure shock and confusion, hearing his Romano's voice, though not as loud as it once was. "Chi...gi..." Romano gasps out, his whole body hurting him as he comes back to the world, squirming in pain.

France rushes over to Romano who is moving in pain, Spain struggling to keep up while his green eyes are locked on Romano's lithe form. Romano hisses as he moves his leg, the bullet still lodged in the femur, causing the nation grief. He looks up with his left eye, his vision swimming as he tries to focus on the moving objects. He gives up, closing his eye, a burning pain on the right side of his head, as if he had been burned with poker. He didn't know what was going on. All he knew was that he was in pain and he had heard voices.

Spain gasps in relief, his eye brightening up. "Romano..." He sighs out as France lays him back against the wall as he checks out Romano condition.

France moves back Romano's hair, careful not to touch the annoying curl that seemed to always make Romano quiet. France grins, seeing that the bullet did hit Romano, but only grazed his head, just barely missing his temple.

Romano's hand searches for the owner of the voice that just called his name, grasping desprately, "Sp...ain..." He gasps out, opening his eye to look for him, still unable to see straight, just the blurry forms around him.

Spain reaches towards the small hand, squeezing it tightly in his grasp, "Romano." He says, smiling slightly, feeling the little hand squeeze back, comfort spreading through both nations at the touch.

Spain gasps, grabbing his chest in pain, as it became more difficult to breathe. France groans, looking at Spain. He knew he was dying right before him. He needed to get these two the hospital, before it was too late for both of them. Where was the ambulance? France had called them 10 minutes ago by now. He groans, couldn't the Italians be more quicker when it came to life and death situations? France sees Spain start to lean to the side, getting ready to collapse onto top of Romano. He catches him, sitting him back up, his head tilted to the side. Spain had lost too much blood, and France was worried that he would lose his best friend before help Would arrive. France grumbles, laying Spain back agiant the wall, careful to keep his and Romano's hands clasped together. How could Italy do this? He growls, the fury rising up in him at the thought.

_I don't care if it is Italy, I have to stop him before he hurts anybody else! __Je le jure._

He looks around, suddenly feeling like the walls were closing in on him, as another thought dawned on him. "Where is Feliciano now?" He shivers, seeing shapes in the shadows of the house, seeming to hide the reaper himself in its secrets.

_Is Italy still in the house? _

France gulps, looking at every dark place, imagining a gun being pointed at him, a finger itching to pull it and end his existance.

Spain groans, "I don't know...he left though, slamming the door behind him."

France looks at Spain, confused at the statement. "But, the door was wide open..." He begins to argue, but Spain had already fainted again, his eye shut as his chest rose and feel uneveningly.

Romano groans, "Ven...detta..." He says weakly.

France gasps, shivering in fear at the mention of such a word. "Revenge? Italy did this for revenge?" He looks up, "Who would he..." France growls, "Where is that Ambulance already?" He looks up, finally hearing the seriens of the ambulance, his fears calmed. He looks at Spain, "Antonio?" Spain looks up, weakly at France, "Take good care of Romano, ok...he needs you" France looks towards the open door, " I'll have a good long talk with Veneciano about what he did." He says, his eyes narrowed in determination.

France walks from the hall, "Circa Qui!" He calls in Italian, spotting the ambulance heading for the house. He groans, trying to remember the Italian language. He curses, wishing he had practice it more. "Um...questi due sono feriti gravemente. Stato girato Antonio...nel torace e Lovino è stato...colpito più volte. Mi scuso, il mio italiano è arrugginito." He says, rubbing his head in worry.

The medical doctor nods, "Grazie per la tua chiamata!" They rush over to Romano and Spain, one of them turning around, "Prendi un altro barella!" He yells out, a few of the helpers rushing back outside.

France sighs, seeing that Romano and Spain were going to be fine. He had finished his job here. He looks out at the darking sky, his eyes full of strength and anger. He dashes out, hoping to get to Italy before he got to his next victim and let his Vendetta be known.

**Here is the next chapter of Nightmare. I got back to the action, but I've yet to reveal where Italy is now. Who do you think will be the next victim? I wonder who it will be?**

**Mixalis: So, more of blood thirsty Italy?**

**Keiko: (Nods)**

**Mixalis: (Rubs hnads together eagerly) Can't wait...but...quick question. I thought you said Romano was dead?**

**Keiko: I didn't, just everybody thought he was dead.**

**Mixalis: Another question, if Italy slammed the door behind him, who opened it back up, and whats was the grocries doing infront of the opened door?**

**Keiko: All your questions will be answered all in good time, my Nobody...just be patient.**

**Mixalis: The suspence is killing me, this is the only story you have not even told me about, can I please read ahead?**

**Keiko: No, because then you will not talk to me any more about the stroies and give me feed back.**

**Mixalis: Fine...where's Russia with that Vodka you asked him for?**

**Keiko: I think Russia is even starting to be fearful of you.**

**Mixalis: No, me and Ivan are drinking buddies, along with America...oh well. NEXT CHAPTER NOW!**

_French Terms_

_Pas bon du tout-_ Not good at all

_Je suis trop tard-_ I'm too late.

_Oh mon dieu-_ Oh god, or Oh My God

_Italie-_ Italy (Again, if you don't know this one...I will smack you)

_Je le jure-_ This I swear.

_Italian Terms_

_Auitomei-_ Help me

_Circa Qui_- Over here

_Um...__questi due sono feriti gravemente. Stato girato Antonio...nel torace e Lovino è stato...colpito più volte. Mi scuso, il mio italiano è arrugginito-_ Um...these two are injuried badly. Antonio's been shot in the chest and Lovino has been shot numerous times. Sorry, my Italian is rusty.

_Grazie per la tua chiamata-_Thanks for your call

_Prendi un altro barella-_ Get another stretcher


	5. Austria

Chapter 5: Austria

The brown haired master is talking on the phone, his face a mixture of fear, worry and annoyance at what he was hearing. He fingers the ivory keys in front of him, almost petting the instruement as he listen calmly to the person on the other end of the phone. He nods slightly, grunting in understandment. His eyes go wide, his hnad crashing down on the keys of the piano, a dreadful noise eching through the house. Hungary jumps in the next room, looking back at the piano room, expecting music to come for there, not a clash of notes. He pushes himself up, looking like he was he was about to run off in concern.

Austria gasps, speaking on the phone, "Are you sure it was at Italy's house?" He asks, trying to piece together the information he was getting.

Prussia nods, in the other end, pacing around like a chicken with its head cut off. "Yeah, France said Spain had called him from Birde's house." He groans, his hands in his hair, frantic now, "I haven't even told West yet, so bitte...bitte..." He sighs, "Don't tell him. I don't know if anybody else is hurt but you know how Birde is. He'll probably retreat to your house or West's." He replies, not knowing the horrible truth about Italy. Austria sighs, his head is lowed door, looking down on the piano keys.

Austria nods, "I hope Ita and Romano escaped." He says, sitting back down, running his hand through his hair "Danke...I'll keep an eye out for them."

Prussia grins, going back to his old self, his red eyes shining in mischeif. "Never thought I'd live to see the day you thanked me, Rodger." He spits out the name, Austraia wincing at the next name.

Austria groans, keeping his composure, despite the emotions running through him. "Don't take it lightly, blockhead." Marazelle twitching in anger. "And its Roderick."

Prussia nods, "Whatever, Rodger, call me if you hear anything." Prussia sighs, going back to worrying, "Guten Nacht." He says, hanging his head down.

Austria nods, hearing the worry return to his voice. He knew Prussia about as well as anybody, this wasn't the Prussia he knew, and it worried him even more. He clears his throat, working up his resolve, "Guten Nacht." He hangs up the phone, leaning back in the chair.

He was worried now, by Prussia call, trembling in fear. Now he knew why Germany drank almost gallon after gallon of Pebto. He could feel his stomach twisting in worry and anxiousity. He leans down, his head pressing down on the ivory and ebony keys, producing another horrible chlashing of notes. He lets his head rest there, clutching his stomach as thoughts ran amouk in his head, one standing out more than the rest.

What if Italy didn't escape before Spain was shot?

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, removing his glasses off his face. This was stressful, and he didn't like stress, it wasn't in his nature to be stressed. He liked it when Italy use to be in his house, under his rule but now, that Italy was away from him, it was more stressful and gave him a stomachache. He was constantly thinking about him, even though when he was under Austria's rule, they thought him to be a girl. He hears footstep and looks up as Hungary walks into his study, lifting his head off the piano keys.

"Who was that Austria-san?" She asks, looking at Austria with a concerned look, wondering why he had slammed his head onto the keys.

"Prussia." He replies, Hungary balling up her fists in anger, no longer concerned, but instead furious.

She growls, "What did the blockhead want this time?" Hungary looks at Austria, suddenly looking concerned. Austria looked troubled, almost sad even. This wasn't like him, he never showed emotion this painfully. She sighs, walking up to him, "What's the matter?" She asks, putting her hand on his shoulder.

Austria looks up at her, slipping back on his glasses, "Spain's been shot..." He sighs, "At Ita's house."

Hungary gasps in concern, "Ita-chan? What about him and Romano, are they ok?" She asks, her eyes wide in fear.

Austria shrugs, "I don't know, Prussia didn't tell me." He replies, closing his eyes and breathing out deepily, "He didn't have...much to say."

They jump as they hear a noise at the door, as if someone was trying desperately trying to get in. Austria sighs as he hears knocking on the wood, smiling slightly in relief. Hungary gets ready to go answer it when Austria stops her, shaking his head, putting his hand on her shoulder. She looks up, seeing him a little more releaved, hearing the frantic knocking once more.

"That's probably Ita now. I'll go." He says, hurrying out of the room and heading towards the front door, the relief flooding through the nation.

He gets ready to answer when something stops him, his Marazelle standing straight up in warning. A chill runs down his spine, sensing the dark aura behind the door, darker and more overpowering than Russia's himself. Whatever was behind the door, it was evil, his Marazelle never lied. It had kept him alive for this many years, he listened to it without question. He motions for Hungary to get back into the piano room, his movements going ridged. She nods, ducking back into the room, peeking her head around to see what Austria would do. She didn't understand what was going on, but her darling Austria never joked around. Whatever he was doing, it was for a good reason. Austria heads towards the curtains, being careful not to make too much movement. As he arrives he looks through the window, peeking through the silk satin at whoever was outside in the rising twilight, the light barely out. It was Italy, knocking on the door once more, the knocking less frantic, as if he had given up on anybody being here. Austria looks in confusion, not understanding how he could've been so wrong. Italy wasn't evil, but, his Marazelle never lied, the nation conflicted at the two truths. He groans, wondering if he was going nuts when he freezes, seeing the gun held in Italy's hand, and few specks of blood on his arms and a cheek. He gulps, his eyes widdening, backing up from the window slowly.

Italy knocks once more, "Austria-san." He says, smirking slightly, "Are you home?" He says sweetly, tilting his head slightly, Austria growling at the coy movement.

Italy must've been the one who shot Spain!

"Italy?" Hungary calls out, Austria looking back in bewilderment, his glasses almost falling off in shock.

He looks back at the door as he hears Italy chuckle, "Hungary? Well, if you are home I'll let myself in." He says, aiming the gun at the lock, Austria's reflexes springing into action.

"Elizabeta! Get back!" Austria says, dragging Hungary into the piano room.

"But Ita-" She stops, hearing the gun go off and the door swing open, the splinters going everywhere.

"Oh Hungary...come out, come out, wherever you are." He smiles, his small smile and his eyes closed slightly "Austria-san, I know you're here, I heard you." He says, stepping into the house, "Why are you hiding?" He holds the gun up, ready to shoot at anything that moved, his sweet demeaner a facade.

Austria cusses under his breath, grabbing Hungary's hand and dragging her into the next room, the woman blushing at the contact. He didn't know what was going on, but that wasn't the Italy he knew. He was very different, a little too much like Russia, maybe even worse than Russia.

That isn't Italy.

Austria groans, wondering what had caused Italy to snap, to become this moster that had his Marazelle warning him of death. Italy looks into the piano room, not seeing Austria and Hungary slip into the next room, the room seeming untouched. But Italy knew better, smirking slightly as he figured his target had figured out he was here for him.

"Where is everyone?" He asks sweetly, "Its me, Ita-chan."

Austria looks around the kitchen, trying to think of a plan. He was good at fighting, it was in his blood, he knew how to escape most situations, but this was the one that escaped him. He had always been taught to expect, the unexpected. And if this wasn't unexpected, what was? Italy knew this house just as well as Austria did, if not better. When Italy was little he had to clean every inch of this mansion, so he knew every corner of this place, and every possible hiding spot in its old walls. He probably had a better mental map of this place than even Austria. Austria sees the back door and looks back at Hungary, seeing her looking fearfully at the piano room, unsure of waht exactly to think.

I have to get her out of here, I can't let anything happen to her.

"Run, get out of here. I'll hold him off." He says, pushing Hungary towards the back door, her blushing in surprise. He didn't want Hungary to be hurt, he wanted her to be safe.

Hungary shakes her head, looking at Austria, with confusion and fear in her eyes. "NO, you're coming too!" She says, tugging on his arm, tears running down her cheeks "Ita has a gun, you're weaponless." Austria had to stop her, before she alerted Italy to there hiding place. He needed to stop this, and now, "You can't s-"

Austria grabs her and kisses her on the lips, Hungary's eyes widdening in surprise as he kisses her passonitaly. Hungary is at first surprised but then returns the kiss, closing her eyes as she tilts her head. Austria takes a breath, looking up at Hungary with determined eyes, craddling her head in his hands, brushing aside her brown locks. "Go, I don't want you to be hurt." He looks back at the Piano room, "I'll handle Ita." He says, letting Hungary go, his hand trailing down to rest on her hand. "I'll be fine, a promise." He says, slightly gripping her hand, Hungary looking in surprise, confusion, fear, and many other emotions.

She nods, tearing up and dashes out the door, going for help, closing the door behind her. Austria sighs, glad that she got out, now, how was he going to survive this. He sighs, looking around for anything tha could help him. He spots an Frying Pan on the stove smiling slightly. Frying Pans maybe Hungary's speciatly but he was desperate, found weaponless in his own home. He yanks the pan off the stove gasping as a spatula fell off the stove. He curses as it clatters to the ground, looking at the doorway worriedly.

Did Italy hear that?

"Ah, you're in the kitchen..." He hears Italy say, affirming his fears, the footsteps picking up into a run.

Austria dashes out of the kitchen, just avoding the bullet coming at him, the shot loud and deafening to the nation. Italy smirks, standing in the kitchen, the smoke from the barelle curling around him, his eyes open slightly, the amber orbs glowing in malice. He had found Austria. The bullet hits the wall instead, Austria gasping as he hears the shot, his ears ringing. He ducks behind the wall, panting in fear as he sees the splinters falling around him. Austria growls, realising he was being threatened, in his own home, by a kid he had practically raised.

I was born to fight, why am I hiding like a sniviling little soldier?

He didn't care who was attacking, even if it was Italy. He didn't back down from a fight, no matter the circumstances. This wasn't going to stop him. He charges back into the kitchen, ready to take on Italy in full blown battle. He stops his charge, seeing nobody in the room, the house seeming quite. He gulps, looking around him, this was bad. He looks around angrily, jumping as all the lights go out in the house. Austria's eyes narrow, Italy was in his study, messing with his lights. He dashes through the piano room, heading for the Hall and then turning, seeing Italy standing there, gun raised. Austria dashes back behind the wall, the gun going off, the round just missing his head. Austria clutches the pan to his chest, catching his breath as he calms himself for the battle at hand.

I need a clear head, to face him. Ita-chan, my sweet Ita-chan.

He growls, a tear falling onto the pan clutched into his chest, remember all the times he had with Italy. From when he was small, to him and Germany becoming allies and moving on to become a strong nation, and now, he would have to kill the one nation he helped raise. "Italy, what happened to you?" He calls out, sneaking around to get into his study through the portrait hall.

"Nothing happened, Austria-san." Italy replies, passing by the front window, a siluitae in the dark as he played cat and mouse with Austria. "I'm the same Italy, nothing different." He chuckles out, his voice seeming to be everywhere.

Austria growls, ducking behind a dresser, his eyes looking around, trying to adjust to the dark. "No, you've changed. You're...evil..." He says, remembering the sensation he had felt earlier when he went towards the door. A aura even darker than Russia's himself was hard to accomplish unless this person was truely evil, demon spawn or close to it.

"Evil?" Italy says, cocking back the pin, "I'm not evil, Austria. Nobody is evil, not even Russia. They are just..." Italy goes silent, Austria looking around the room, for Italy. He hears a click behind him, "...Misunderstood." Italy says, firing the gun at Austria.

Austria gasps and raises up the Frying pan, the bullet richeting off of the metal of the pan. The ping audiable in the whole house. Italy growls at him, aiming the gun at him again. Austria swings the pan, knocking the weapon from his hand. Italy growls shaking his hand and tackles Austria to the ground, his amber eyes glowing like a cats in the pitch black house. This was now a one-sided fight. A weak nation vs one that was born to fight. Austria takes the pan and swings at Italy's head, with killing force. Italy ducks, Austria missing completely, the pan flung out of his hands. Italy grabs Austria by the asscot and punches him dead in the face. Austria reflexivly grabs his nose, Italy gaining the advantage. He grabs Austria's throat, clamping down on the wind pipe. Austria growls, trying to get Italy off of him, pushing and struggling, his feet kicking around. He spots the pan abadonded by his side, the weapon almost out of his reach. He lets go of Italy's arms, Italy squeezing tighter on his throat now, unopposed. Austria starts to see spots infront of his eyes, his vision swimming. He grabs a hold of the the cast iron pan, and swings. The sound of metal hitting bone sounds through the room, echoing almost as Austria took a deep breath of sweet oxygen, coughing as he rubbing his wind pipe. Italy falls back, knocked out from the blow, going limp as his head lolls to the side. Austria pushes him off of him, coughing and trying to get his breath back. He stands up, gasping for air and looking around for the circut breaker, to shead some light on the situation. He sighs, finding it and flicks it on, the white light flooding through the house. Suddenly he hears a shot, a searing pain erupts in his side, the lights shutting off completely, flickering on and off like something out of a horror movie. Austria falls into the wall, bracing himself as he struggles to breath, the firey ripping through him. He gasps, truning around, spotting Italy, his left side bruised and bloody from the pan, looking more than mad, almost demonic. He wipes the blood from his face with his arm, glaring evily at Austria.

"Vendetta." He breathes out, the gun aimed at Austria's head, "Now, join Romano and Spain in sleep." He says.

**And stop, this will be continued next chapter. Yes, Austria is his next victim in this twisted nightmare. Well, Austria did own the little guy a while back and made him a serveant and made him dress in girls clothes. And he stomped on him, ve! It would seem Italy would have some pent up anger about Austria, after all, Austria did bully him, along with France, and Holy Roman Empire. Poor Italy, had a bad past, (Just like me) And was mistaken for the opposite gender (Like me) Funny story with that. I'll explain it in a skit today. It happened at a parade in Littleton, North Carolina.**

**Girl: Hey, you. (Keiko stops, looking back as a little girl runs up) I have a question. (The little girl has her hands on her hips, little Miss. Priss.)**

**Keiko: (Smiles and bends down to get eye level with the little girl) Ok, um, shoot. What's the question?**

**Girl: Are you a boy? (Keiko dies at this point) Because my friends says you're a girl but I 'know' that you're a boy so just hurry up and tell her so we can stop fussing.**

**Keiko: (Recovers from shock) But.. I'm a girl.**

**Girl: Prove it.**

**At this point Mixalis was laughing her head off and I was so embarassed. I couldn't prove it to the little girl unless I pulled my shirt or pants off and I wasn't about to flash this little girl. I'm not France. I have no boobs and have very short hair. I told my mom afterwards and all she did was laugh and pat my back. How's that for moral support. Curse me being mistaken for a guy, but good thing is, I could sneak into a all boys school and nobody would notice.**

**Mixalis: On with the story already, and that's not true, you look very much like a girll...(Laughs) I can't keep a straight face on, this is too rich.**

**Keiko: Haha, keep it up and I won't write anymore.**

**Mixalis: (Silence)**

**I was also though to be a boy at Animazement this year (2010) By a Hungary...and maybe some others, but we did think England was a boy as well...sigh. I miss the guys, they were awesome, ve. But yes, what happened to Austria you ask? Will he be killed or will he somehow make it out of this mess. Oh, short note, I think Prussia has a nickname for almost everyone and that his for Austria, just to piss him off is Rodger. Of course Germany is West, even the comics agree to that. And I believe Prussia calls Italy, Birde, I mean, Italy clings to Germany like Gilbird clings to Prussia. Have to think of more nicknames for Prussia to use, because he is just that awesome and I would love to see how many nations he could piss of with the little nicknames. AMerica is Ronald, or Hero Boy, or Fred would be annoying too. Um, ENgland would have to be Bushy Brow, or maybe Baka...can't really think of any for him. If you have any ideas on annoying pet names, for any nation, for Prussia, leave it in a comment, it will be muc apprciated. XD Yes, my dreams really are like this. Most of my stories are based on dreams but this one was really vivid, which made me waking up that much more scared, as you will see why in the last chapter. Guess who's going to star in the next chapter? Guess...guess! Even this surprised me in the dream. If you get it right, I'll give you a cookie, and a story request, ve! (Yes, that's right, I'll write any story you tell me to, just no lemons, I've tried to write those, it doesn't work for me. The fics I'm good with is Kingdom Hearts, Hetalia, Bolt, Spirit, Balto, Doctor Who, Lion King, Bambi, Bleach, Naruto, Inuyasha, ...know what, check out my profile, it lists all my favorite shows, movies, and games. I even write scary stuff, as you can see from this and my Silent hill fic. Or if you can't think of any, I'll start on one of my stories from my polls, your first choice. XD Well, till next chapter.)**

_German Terms_

_Danke- Thanks_

_Guten Nacht- Good night, but can be used as Good bye as well._


	6. England

Chapter 6: England

Austria stares at the gun aimed at him, Italy smirking evilly as his former Master trembled in fear. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest; beating louder and faster every minute. The lights flicking on and off give a sort of a feeling of fear to the hall. Austria couldn't tell exactly when Italy would pull the trigger, and he was unable to move from the fear and pain coursing through him. He takes one more deep breath, his heart beat going as fast as it could, his eyes widening in fear. Italy goes from a smirking face to pure satanic almost, his face twisted between a scowl and a smirk, Austria's heart stopping at the sight. It was the look of a maniac. Italy gets ready to pull the trigger when all chaos breaks lose. The window smashes open, somebody tackling the nation to the ground, the gun flying from Italy's hand. Austria looks in shock as France mows Italy down on the ground, like a Running Back*. France pins the struggling Italian to the ground, looking up at Austria, his eyes wide in fear and anger. He was exhausted and panting, like he had run the whole way here, trying to get to Italy before he had gotten Austria. Somehow, France had known Austria would be his next target, aside from himself that was. Austria sits up looking in shock at the struggle, Italy trying to get his arms unpinned to get the gun in front of him. He was frozen again, no longer in fear, but in pure shock at what had just happened. France grunts as Italy almost manages to throw him off, wondering why the heck Austria hadn't moved yet. He looks up at the young master, knowing the man was going into shock.

"RUN!" France yells at Austria. "Get out of here!" he grunts out, Italy putting up a fight against the big nation.

"Let me go, France!" Italy snarls, kicking and pushing at France, the nation barely keeping him down.

Austria finally snaps out of it, realizing France had just saved his life. He wouldn't get another chance like this one; he had to seize it before it was taken back. He had to get out of here, before Italy got lose. If that happened, both he and France would pay dearly for it. Austria holds his side in pain as he stands up, rushing out of his study and heading out the front door. He starts running, ignoring the fiery pain in his side, heading for the one place he always use to run to for safety. He just runs numbly, not even looking back or wondering if France would be ok. At this point and time, Austria was worried about saving his own hide, he was ashamed to say. France sighs, happy that Austria had gotten out safely, but goes back to focusing on the problem at hand. Italy was doing his best to throw France off his back and chase down Austria, to make him pay for those long years of resentment. France growls and pushes Italy's face into the ground, the nation growling at him. This wasn't like Italy at all, Spain had been telling the truth. France was even scared of this new Italy, just the pure change from the innocent Feliciano, to the murderous maniac he had pinned down under him, made him fear for his own mental well-being. Italy twists his head around, trying to bite at France, only managing to get a hold of France's sleeve. France yelps, moving his arm off Italy's head, Italy rearing up to attack him. It was like that time Australia had tried to teach France to wrangle crocodiles, and just about as dangerous. France groans, trying to keep it together, his sanity and his strength. He was being clawed at by Italy, almost in a cat-fight fashion. Italy turns from his attack and reaches for his gun, France grabbing the arm and yanking back. Italy yells in pain as France pins him down once more, twisting his arm in a painful position. France winces at the sound of Italy's yells of agony. Italy may be killing people, but France still thought of him as a silly little boy. The yell tore at France's heart, making him tear up. Italy growls, snapping his arm back, elbowing France in the face, the nation seeing white for a split second. France stays strong despite the attack, groaning as he kept Italy pinned down, the nation thrashing around.

France was starting to get really panicked, the struggling making it almost too easy to accidently hurt Italy. At this rate, he might actually break his arm.

"Italy, stop!" France yells out, his voice cracking in mixed worry and fear.

Italy ignores the plea, managing to kick France in the lower stomach, France coughing as Italy's boot dug into his stomach. France groans at the pain in his abdomen, keeping his grip on Italy, knowing that if he got loose, France was a dead man. He tries to keep his grip on the smaller nation, but he was still winded from the long run, while Italy had plenty of strength. The gun was right in front of Italy, the nation's amber eyes narrowing in concentration. He yells and slips his other hand from under him, grasping the cold metal of the gun. He turns it on France, pulling the trigger. France ducks and covers, as he sees the Italy slip his hand around the trigger of the gun. France yelps as the bullet comes so close to hitting him, he could see his hair move in the after-math. Italy stands up, aiming it at France once more, the nation on the ground on his back. France looks up, his eyes widening in fear, his skin turning pale. Italy pulls the trigger, France squeezing his eyes close as he waits for the bullet. He could hear his heart beating so loud, he didn't even hear the gun go off. He pauses, not hearing anything but his heart, what was taking Italy. He freezes, hearing the trigger pull back and prepares for death. Instead, he hears a click, the most beautiful sound he had ever heard in his life. Italy is furious; he had used up his six shots, the gun coming up empty. Italy reaches into his breast pocket and starts to reload again. France scrambles up and dashes out of the hall, heading for any place but where Italy was. He needed to hide, and he needed to hide fast.

"Come back France-nii-chan," Italy says, spinning the barrel, six new bullets in the chamber."I have a present for you..." He starts after the fleeing Frenchman's footsteps. "Don't you want it?" he finishes.

France gulps, hearing Italy rushing throughout the house. France heads up the stairs, trying to be a discrete and fast as possible. He rushes down the hall; heading into the darkest room in the hall, rushing towards a wooden wardrobe in the big room. He ducks behind it, pushing back as far as he can as he tries to keep his breathing quiet. He gulps as he starts to hear Italy creep up the stairs, seeing something flutter in the room. He holds back a yelp as it disappears, France hoping Italy wouldn't check this room. What was he thinking? He was alone, in a huge mansion, with a psychotic killer on the loose, already almost killing two, no three nations now. The only people that knew he was here were rushing to Napoleon knows where, while France was cowering behind a wooden wardrobe and there was no Narnia that he could escape to in this one.

France freezes, hearing Italy push open the door, gun raised and aiming around the room, "France-nii-chan? Where are you?" Italy says, creeping around.

France gulps, his whole body trembling in fear. He tries to get back further back into the dark as the lights flicker on, dimly flicking like it was struggling to stay on. He gasps as he knocks over some curtain rods, the metal rods clanking to the ground. France's whole world freezes, cursing himself for making the noise. He was praying Italy didn't hear it, trying to keep as still as possible. Italy smirks, dashing around to the side of the wardrobe, aiming his gun at France's face. France yells, trying to get out the other side of the wardrobe but gets tangled up in the rods, falling backwards on the ground. France gulps, staring down the length of the barrel, on his back and venerable. How he wished he had found a better hiding space.

"Italy, wait..." He says, trembling and holding his hands up, "Don't do this! What happened to the sweet Italie that we all use to know and love?" He yells out.

Italy sighs. "Nothing," he says. "I'm no different, just misunderstood. You all just never paid close attention to me is all. I've always been this way, France-nii-chan," he says, tilting his head to the side. "Now, you let Austria escape." His smiling face grows cold, his amber eyes glaring at France as he aims. "You shouldn't have done that," he says coldly.

France yells, pushing back with his legs, still trying to get away from Italy. "Don't shoot!" He cowers, his hands in front of his face. "Please, I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'll do anything, I mean anything! Just DON'T SHOOT!" he yells out, trembling.

Italy sighs. "I'm sorry France-nii-chan, but you where the next person I was going to pay back. And now, you've let Austria-san go as well. Oh well. When I get rid of you, I'm going to pay an old friend a visit." He cocks back the gun. "Pleasant dreams, France-nii-chan."

France closes his eyes, tears pouring down his cheeks. He tries to keep from shivering, to at least go out with some dignity left. He didn't want to die. He was alone and nobody knew where he was in an unfamiliar territory, he should've known that this would happen. How could he be such a-

"BAKA!" France gasps as he hears the last voice he thought he would ever hear, hearing England dash into the room, pointing a gun at Italy.

Italy looks at England and doesn't know whether to shoot at England or laugh his head off at him. England was strangely dressed in a white toga, two wings on his back and a gun pointed at Italy, his green eyes glaring down the nation. He was panting, as if he had been running, err… flying as fast as he could. England looks at the scene before him, trying to figure out where everything was. He had been out of the area, over in China's house but when he got the call from Prussia, he started to get suspicious. That wasn't what made him go Britannic Angel. The thing that finally got him to adopt his wings back was the fact that his cup of Green Tea turned into a 7-foot-long Cobra and almost killed him. When that happened, he had figured something was happening, and that it was probably something more than a random shooting. He went Britannia Angel so he could get there as quickly as possible, after all, flying is faster than running all the way back. On the way there he encountered Hungary, who told him Italy was trying to kill Austria. He flew here as fast as he could, and heard France's pleads from down stairs, fearing he had come too late. He had hoped it wasn't Italy like Hungary had said, but here he was, staring Italy down, the nation glaring at him with glowing amber eyes.

Italy's eyes grow soft, trying to look scared. "England, Thank goodness you've come! I've trapped the bad guy who hurt Austria-san," he says. "Don't come over here, he has a gun."

England smirks, there was no need for Italy to lie to him; he knew the truth already. He had a little friend with him. He shakes his head. "I heard everything, Feliciano, don't play games with me."

Italy's kind face turns hateful. "You couldn't have, you just dashed in."

England smirks, spotting the tuff of green on top of the wardrobe. "Oh, I didn't, but Mate* heard everything." The green rabbit takes flight, hovering above the wardrobe, glaring at Italy like he was nothing but pure evil. "Now…" England glares at him, stepping forward. "Drop the gun and come with me. You're under arrest," he says, his bold green eyes staring down bloodthirsty amber ones.

France sighs out, never in his life had he been so happy to hear England's voice. Italy backs up, looking at England and back at France. England grins, Italy was trapped, and he knew that. Italy looks at England, smirking suddenly, not looking so fearful now.

_Oh man, why is he smirking? This can't be good, he has something planned! But, perhaps it just something that crazy people do when they are at the end of their rope. _

England looks at Italy, taking another step. Italy still has his gun focused on France, hidden from sight behind the wardrobe. Despite that, England was able to see him thanks to his familiar showing him what he couldn't see. He could see what the rabbit could see and vice versa.

Italy grins, putting his hands up. "I surrender."

England sighs. "Good, now drop the gun." Italy continues to smile. "I said drop the gun!" England says, pointing the gun at Italy. "Feli, drop the gu-" A shot rings out.

Mate yells out, struck by the bullet, falling onto the top of the wardrobe, shot through the chest. The bullet causing a lot of damage to the small fairy. England yells out, experiencing the same thing his familiar feels, only it was as if he was shot clean through with a shotgun round rather than a pistol shot. He crumples to the ground, thrashing in pain as he felt his familiar, himself, dying. Italy puts his hands down, rushing out of the room, not waiting for England to get up. He had bigger fish to fry than France and England. France gulps, not hearing anything, scared Italy was still right around the corner, fearing the worse for England's fate. He stumbles up, looking around, confused and not understanding what the hell just happened. Italy had let him go, when he had been ready to kill him.

"AHHH!" France hops up at the sound of England's yell of pain. "Bloody hell, it hurts! Fuck! Help- OWWWW!" He takes deep breaths, his breathing becoming ragged. "Help Francis!" he yells out, twisting in pain, almost mirroring Mate's movements.

France pushes himself up, trying to get untangled from the jumble of curtain rods, finally breaking free and coming from behind the wardrobe. "Angleterre." He pauses, seeing the injured nation in the Britannic Angel clothes confused the nation for a second. He gasps, rushing over to England, kneeling down beside him, looking for a gunshot wound on him, "How'd he shoot you? Where are you hit, Arthur?" He says, looking England over.

England growls, grabbing France by the front of his uniform and dragging France down to see him face to face. "Not me, you baka! Mate! My familiar! AHH, shit!" he gasps out, closing his eyes at the pain coursing through him, pulsing through him.

France looks confused. "Familiar?"

"The bloody fucking rabbit you Wino!" England yells, letting go of France's blue top, curling up as the pain increased tenfold.

France nods, rushing back to the wardrobe, spotting the dying green rabbit on top of it. He reaches up and cradles the rabbit, carefully lifting it off the wardrobe and cuddling him in his arms. The once mint green fur was now red with its own blood, the fairy's movements becoming slower and slower. France maneuvers back to England, kneeling down and placing the rabbit down on the ground. The rabbit was panting, blood coming from his chest. France looks at England, he looked worse off as the rabbit did, if not the same. Maybe there was truth to those warlock fables: this green rabbit must've been England's spirit. France groans, not knowing how to treat an animal, he could help a human, but a green winged bunny fairy was a completely different thing.

"What do I do?" He gasps out.

England takes a deep breath, feeling himself slipping away. "Treat him, baka. If he lives, I live, if he dies..." He gulps. "You get the picture," he says, coughing up blood, gritting his teeth together.

France groans. "I don't know how to treat a rabbit!"

"DO IT!" England yells.

France sighs. "If you say so."

He rushes over to the wardrobe, opening it and spotting some black material, not being able to see what it is from the constant flickering of the light. He grabs it and rips a long strip from it, rushing back over to the rabbit. He pushes down on the wound, not too hard for fear of crushing the rabbit's ribs. England groans as he feels the pressure on his chest, feeling like a ton of bricks on his ribs. He takes deep breaths, trying to stay alive. France groans, too much blood was coming out. He wraps the strip of cloth around the rabbit's chest, careful to avoid the wings. He wraps it tighter and tighter, hoping to put enough pressure so that the wound would stop bleeding. He groans, this wasn't working at all. He ties it up, rushing out the door, England seeing him run past him.

England looks as France runs, abandoning him. "Where are you going..." he gasps out, "Come back here..." He closes his eyes, his breaths becoming shorter and his world going dimmer.

_I should've known France would let me die, even though I got this way because of trying to save France's ass in the first place._

France comes back, a First Aid Kit in hand, "This ought to help, oui?" He says, rushing back over to Mate.

England groans, feeling worse by the minute, it getting harder to breath.

_Why did I bring Mate along with me? _

He always left the rabbit at home, so things like this wouldn't happen. He regrets letting Mate come on vacation with him over in China's lands. He should've left Mate down stairs, or not even mention him. He had revealed his weak point to Italy, not realizing he was smart enough to use it to his advantage. He should've realized when Italy got that smirk on his face. He was dying now because of it, because of his stupid baka mistake.

_I guess I'm the baka…_

He closes his eyes, letting his head lay down on the ground, accepting death with welcome arms.

"There..." France says, done with the bunny. "You'll be fine, oui?"

England opens his eyes, looking around.

_I'm not dead? France actually succeeded in saving my life? Wait, France saved my life? _

He groans, looking up at France.

France looks worried. "What is it Arthur? You still hurt?"

England shakes his head. "No, I feel fine," he sighs. "You just saved my life, you..." He groans. "Never speak of this-" He stops, seeing France glaring at the door, his hands shaking in rage.

In the door opening stood Italy, looking in shock at the scene. He looked as if he was scared, sad even. He looked like himself, but France knew it was all a façade and Italy would just smirk that evil smirk at them, and kill them all. And he wasn't about to let Italy get the first shot.

France grabs up the gun at England's side. "DIE!" he yells, pulling the trigger, the bullet aimed for Italy's heart.

Italy yelps out, his amber eyes going wide in fear before slamming the door, the bullet lodged into the thick wooden door. The sound of hurried footsteps down the stairs and the slam of the front door signaled that Italy had left the house for good. France stands up, careful not to step on the now sleeping Mate. "That Bastard! He was watching you die!" he growls out.

England groans, picking himself up, feeling every pulse in his body, but slowly regaining his strength. "Italy will pay for hurting my Mate," he says, scooping up the green rabbit. "But first, I have to find someplace to hide him, so Italy can't shoot him again."

France grins. "I know where to hide him, mon ami."

England looks strangely at France. "Where?" he asks, worried about the smile on France's face.

**I have some really weird, and messed up dreams, don't I. Yes, in the dream the green rabbit was there and England was in his Britannic Angel form...WEIRD. I think that the bunny is sort of his familiar, since most warlocks and witches have a familiar spirit that they turn into and is their weak point and their strong point at the same time. Yes, Italy did shoot the rabbit, and left England to die. I couldn't find the name of the bunny but England called him Mate in the dream, and it sort of fits, so I left it. And a Running Back is a player in American Football, I think that is the guy who tackles, sorry no internet to double check. England had a whole, Oh man, my enemy and rival just saved my life, we shall never speak of this again. XD Kinda like Axel's look of "Oh hell, did I just say that out loud to Sora?" Look he had when he was about to tell Sora you make me feel the same way, when he was dying. Oh the winner of the review contest is none other than ****candyXkyo**** and ****xXLunarEclipse896Xx** **, congrats, contact me through a PM and tell me what you want, ok. candyXkyo got who was going to be attacked and ****xXLunarEclipse896Xx**** got who actually got attacked and the name of the chapter. I even do drawings, and I was a art major...just saying. I'll draw, do a story of your choosing, either by you or one of my poll stories. (Throws fanfare) So, Congrats! I hope to hear from you soon, ve!** **Oh, and thanks to Phoenix Pheothers for being my new Beta for my Hetalia stories. Domo Imouto-chan!**

**Mixalis: Why didn't Italy just shoot them while France was working on the bunny?**

**Keiko: How should I know?**

**Mixalis: It was your dream.**

**Keiko: Ok, I do know but, I'm not telling you.**

**Mixalis: Evil. EEEVVILLLLLLL!**

**Keiko: For the last time, you are my evil half, you are just over come with anticipation.**

**Mixalis: I need Pepsi, now.**

**Keiko: I wish you had Vodka, you were much easier to get along with.**

**Mixalis: (Glares) I would kill you right now, but, I'm awaiting the ending of this fic, so I will spare you this time.**

((Ps, all my story update chapters have been deleted, stupid computer repair man, so I will be trying to update Away From The Sun, I'm the Villian, and maybe even start back up on some of my old stories...or try to...thanks for ur patients. I'm back at college, so hopefully I can get out of this writters block I've been plagued with for this summer, stupid hell of a summer... So, with some help with my Imouto-chan I will be feeling right as rain again, thanks for being patient with me. Grazie! Oh and thanks to all of you who corrected my launguages...sorry, is American...and Google Translator sucks...so I will be making those changes as well, kay. GRAZIE!))


	7. Switzerland

Chapter 7: Switzer-

**Mixalis: OH COME ON!**

**Keiko: O_O Mixalis, what are you doing?**

**Mixalis: (glares at Keiko, backing her against the wall, poking her (forehead) Listen here you, I've been patient for a few months now, and I WANT ANSWERS!**

**Keiko: (Has her ears back in fear, his eyes wide) But... but I was sick... and...I had to deal with stress...and..and..but..**

**Mixalis: This wasn't even in your dream, this is something you're coming up with to keep me from hearing the ending. (Pouts and turns her back on Keiko who looks bewildered)**

**Keiko: O_o? How did you know I was making this part up.**

**Mixalis: (looks back in surprise and anger) ARGH! I didn't until just now, just skip Switzerland, before I skin your ass alive. (holds out sword)**

**Keiko: O_O (Sweatdrop and backs up, holding her hands up) It will be a short chapter, promise, and then I'll load the next chapter up tomorrow.**

**Mixalis: Promise? (glares)**

**Keiko: Promise. (looks worriedly, gulping)**

Chapter 7: Switzerland

Austria holds his side in pain, pushing himself to run, trying to get to his destination. He was breathing raggedly, not stopping, not turning back; trying not to fall down for he knew if he did, he wouldn't get back up. He wasn't even thinking at this point, he was just running blindly at this point. But he knew where he was going this familiar tread, the familiar streets. He was heading for the one place he remembered feeling safe whenever he was hurt badly like he was now, Switzerland's house. Switzerland always knew what to do, how to help him, and he needed him more than ever now. He gasps out, his side spurting out more blood the more he moved, leaving a trail of red down the path. He was stumbling more now, feeling light headed from the blood loss. He didn't know where Hungary had gone but at least she was safe, he could feel that she was safe, and that's all he needed. He didn't know how France had known or what had happened to him. He was just thankful that France had arrived when he did, if he had been a few minutes late. Austria pushes the thought aside, speeding up as  
he recognized his surroundings. He was desperate now. All he knew was that he needed help now, or else he would die. Even now he was feeling cold, never a good sign to a gunshot victim. He was seeing spots before his eyes as he heading for the house. The lights shining from inside it lift his spirits and give him the much needed moral boost. He had hope now, Switzerland was home. He speeds up, more blood flowing through his hands, hoping he could get to the house before he passed out, or fell, both of which he was in danger of. He nears the house his knees feeling like they were about to give out from under him.

"Hilfe!" he yells, hoping that Switzerland or somebody would hear him knowing he wouldn't get near enough to the house to knock on the door. He just prayed he was in earshot. "HILFE!" he groans, collapsing on the ground, unable to continue. "Hilfe bitte!" he begs, his breath hitching.

Switzerland is his house, growling as heard Austria's voice outside, yelling.

_Why do I hear Austria? Austria would never come here. It must be a memory toying with me. Those seem to be coming more and more these days._

Switzerland sighs and shakes his head, thinking he was reliving a memory. He seemed to be doing that more and more recently, random events triggering the trips back in time. He pays it no mind continuing his reading of the newspaper in his hands. Liechtenstein however looks up, listening carefully to the yells outside. She looks at her big brother, waiting for him to get up and go see what the racket was all about. Switzerland feels Liechtenstein staring at him and he looks over the paper at her.

"What?" he asks, wondering why she was staring at him, looking as if she wanted him to do something.

She looks down, shyly, "Um, Nii-chan, aren't you going to help him?" she asks.

"Help?" he asks, looking out the window. "You mean… that's actually his voice?" he says, his fingers itching to get up, now knowing it wasn't a memory. She nods, looking at Switzerland and then out the window. He looks up in worry, not hearing anything anymore, his ears straining to hear. He groans, not hearing a sound except his own heartbeat and the steady hum of the Air conditioner.

_He's probably just calling wolf. Nothing's the matter, it's just a trick.  
_  
He sighs, going back to his paper. "He's probably doing it just to get on my nerves or something stupid," he says, opening his newspaper back up forcefully, ripping it in half. He growls, placing it on the table beside him, grabbing up a glass of water.

Austria struggles to get up looking at the house a few hundred feet from him, but it couldn't be further away. He could feel his vision trying to fade away, but he couldn't black out yet, not when he was so close to help. He groans, taking a deep breath to yell again. "Help, I've..." He struggles to finish. "I've been shot! Please Switzerland... I beg you!" he says, falling down on his face, "Bitte...bitte..." he says, balling up his hands into fists.

_SCHUSS?_

The one word hits Switzerland's ears and goes straight to his heart, the man's heart rising in his throat. Switzerland almost chokes on his water, dashing out of the room and heading out the door. He heard the pain, the desperation, in Austria's voice then, now that he was listening out for his voice. He flicks on the porch light, spotting Austria trying to stand up about 500 feet away from his house, blood all over his clothes. Switzerland's eyes go wide, hearing his heart pound in fear at the sight of Austria, the nation looking like he was hanging on by a thread. He dashes towards him, the hate of his enemy gone, instead reminded of their past friendship. Switzerland kneels down beside Austria, helping him up off the ground, slinging Austria's arm over his neck to support him. Austria sucks in a deep  
breath, hissing at the pain erupting in his side at standing up. Switzerland winces at the sound, knowing his friend was hurt, and hurt bad.

"Roderick, who did this to you?" he yells, helping Austria towards the house, the nation having trouble moving his legs. Just seeing the nation in this condition was heartbreaking, the proud nation, the young master, weak and vulnerable.

_How can you even call yourself a knight?_

Switzerland shakes his head at the memory of carrying him home after Hungary beat him to within an inch of his life long ago. Austria groans, Switzerland helping him through the door, sitting him in a chair. "It..." He coughs, feeling the blood flowing down his leg, "It was Feliciano," he says.

Switzerland looks up bewildered. "Italy? Impossible, he couldn't hurt a fly!" he says, motioning for Liechtenstein to get the first aid kit.

Liechtenstein looks, her eyes widening in fear and looking upset. She nods quickly, staring at Austria's state, looking very worried for him. She rushes off, Switzerland helping Austria lay down on the ground, Austria groaning as he laid down. Austria grabs a footstool and places it under Austria's legs, to elevate them. He didn't need Austria going into shock.

Austria looks feverishly up at Switzerland, struggling to keep his eyes open. "Te... tell that to Romano and Spain..." he says, remembering that Italy had told him that he killed them also.

Switzerland couldn't believe it, the words not seeming to belong together, not connecting to his knowledge of the happy go lucky nation. Switzerland shakes his head, pushing the confusing thoughts out of his head. He needed to focus on the problem at hand, and help his friend, Austria. Switzerland sighs, taking off Austria's shirt, the nation yelping as it was ripped off his wound, the wound already healing slightly, catching some of the fabric in it. Switzerland groans, that wasn't going to be good, seeing the blood on Austria's side, the nation looking paler by the second. The wound had dirt in it from when Austria had fallen outside his house, and a dirty would was more likely to get infected. Switzerland groans, placing his hand over the still bleeding wound, making sure he had enough pressure on it. He sees Liechtenstein rush back and looks at her, seeing her trembling at the sight of the blood.

"Get me some water and a bucket and peroxide, I need to clean this," Switzerland says, seeing the damage on his friend's side.

She rushes into the bathroom, getting a washcloth and a bucket from under the sink. She gives them to Switzerland, seeing his friend hurting like hell. Switzerland looks at the pained expression on Austria's face, worrying over him.

_The bullet must still be in the wound if it is causing Austria this much pain._

Switzerland gasps as he realizes the truth.

_Austria must've got attacked at his home. In his pain and desperation he came all the way here, instead of heading to the hospital, which is closer than my house is._

He looks up at Austria, feeling tears trying to come to his eyes.

_Austria came to me, just like he did when we were little._

He sighs, smiling and shaking his head.

_I can never get rid of Austria, even if I wanted to. He always relied on me. We were the best of friends._

_Wo haben die Dinge gehen bei uns falsch?_

Switzerland wet the washcloth and places it on Austria's side, trying to be gentle in cleaning the dried blood off Austria.

Austria hisses as the water touches the wound, aggravating it. Switzerland gasps he sees why Austria was hurting so bad and losing so much blood. His side was shot and had a huge wound, coming from running with the wound cutting through the side of his side, leaving the muscle weakened. There was no bullet, just torn muscle. He needed to disinfect it, to get all the dirt out of it before he got infected. He grabs some peroxide and pours it right on the wound, the liquid  
foaming up white and turning red from the blood. Austria groans, feeling the bubbling up of the foam, covering every square inch of the wound, looking like red cauliflower. Switzerland groans, looking down at Austria worriedly.

Austria sighs, feeling Switzerland looking at him. "Vielen dank," he says, Switzerland gasping at the gesture.

He smiles. He hadn't heard Austria thank him in a long time. "You're welcome, now stay still so I can treat you," he says, pressing the wash rag up against the wound.

Austria yelps, feeling the cold rag on his side was a relief but it hurt like hell too. Switzerland didn't like seeing his friend like this, but he needed to make sure it was clean off all dirt and possibly infect him. Switzerland sighs, seeing that the wound was fully clean, but still bleeding a lot. He would just have to wrap it  
tight and hoped it stopped bleeding, putting just the right amount of pressure. He grabs some gauze from the First Aid Kit, and places a wad of it on the area of the wound. He takes the rest and wraps it around his stomach, encasing his abs and back in the white bandages, encircling his waist. He ties it off, layering it with some Ace wrap, pulling it tight around Austria's waist.

"There, done..." He stops, not hearing Austria. "Roderick?" He gulps, looking up, worried that he had lost too much blood.

His fears go away as he sees Austria had fallen asleep, to exhausted from his ordeal to stay awake. Austria smiles, putting the bloody washcloth in the bucket of red water, his mind calmed and knowing Austria would be ok. Liechtenstein looks at Austria in worry, and looks at her brother, surprised at the calm, happy look on her brother's face. Switzerland was actually smiling, looking more carefree and happy.

"Will he be alright?" she asks, looking at Austria.

Switzerland nods, smiling in relief. "Yeah, he will, now let's look for a blanket for him, to keep him from going into shock."

Liechtenstein relaxes, smiling as she saw her brother really happy for the first time in a long time.

**I had to, I hate that Switzerland and Austria aren't friends anymore. I wish they would make up, they use to be the best of friends, Switzerland always rescuing Austria from all the battles he lost. That was a cute episode, seeing Switzerland carrying Austria on his back, and arrow sticking out of his ass. It was sweet, and then the one where Switzerland was thinking about Austria and gasps, suddenly angry, grabbing a bucket and punching his head with the bucket over his head. It reminded me of the Movie, How the Grinch Stole Chirstmas (The live actions one, not the cartoon) And he was trying to get rid of those pesky memories by whacking himself with a mallet (Aka, his sedative XD) I think they would be the best of friends if they would just sit down and talk or maybe go through a dangerous situation would bring them back together again. ((Question mark? O-o)) **

**Mixalis: OK, I must admit, I really liked this chapter.**

**Keiko :See, what did I tell you?**

**Mixalis: Don't push it. I'm still expecting the next chapter, ASAP.**

**Keiko: OK, yeesh, you're more demanding than my readers, I swear.**

**Mixalis: XP**

**Keiko: Don't stick out your tongue!**

**Mixalis: That's what you get!**

**Author's note: I'm sorry. Desole. Scusa. Me paenitet. Es tut mir leid. Lo seinto. I have been through so much this year and its just been one stress after another. I swear I almost died in September, Mein Gott... stupid chest pains, which I found out were panic attacks. And then I've had family problems from hell were I think I am at the point of just giving up and hanging up any ties with them. Stupid closed minded people... grrrrrrr. Anyway, I have finally got my muse back... and am trying to at least update one chapter of everyone of my stories. OH I also has an ipod... happy news... I know they have been out for ages but still... grrrr... stupid family... anywho... I am updating this cause my muse, who has been going through a lot as well, finally updated them for Thanksgiving* Danke, Grazie, Gracious Imouto-chan~ Ok people, author's note over. Iam also trying to get back to AFTS and I'm the Villian and also Losing AMerica. I am trying desperately to get these up and apologize for making you wait almost a half of a year on its at such a curcial spot too... I feel bad. Ok enough of my blabbering... I have to go, addio! Caio! You got to love different languages~**


	8. Germany

**Finally, the chapter you've been waiting for...**

**Mixalis looks in awe, hoping up and down in anticiaption.**

Chpater 8: Germany

The albino man paces across the room, his little yellow bird flying around with him, flying circles around the red eyed man's head. Gilbird chirped every now and then, the worry he felt from his master making him restless. Prussia stops for a second, Gilbird almost flying into his head, flying up instead to avoid giving his master a beak-to-the-head. Gilbird stops flying and lands on his master's head, just before Prussia starts feverishly wearing a trench in the floor once more. He glances at the discarded phone, shaking his head, and running his hands through his hair. Prussia sighs, he hadn't heard from France, England, or even Austria about the condition of Spain or the whereabouts of the Italy twins.

He was about to have a panic attack, he could feel it coming. The tighting of his chest, his breathing coming raggedily. He knew soon the pain would be too much to bare and he would just curl up on the couch. But he couldn't just lay down, he could barily stay still for one minute. The only thing that could make this worse was if France had been shot too. And, the way this was going, he could very well be already shot or worse, dead. Prussia would go complain about it to Germany like he normally would, but he wasn't about to tell him that Italy might've been shot as well as Spain. Germany would rush ofto the rescue and get hurt as well. He was between a rock and a hard place. He flops down on the couch, Gilbird letting out a startled chirp as his Master almost melted into the cousins, it becoming harder to breathe now. Prussia sits by the phone, tapping his foot in worry, Gilbird hopping nervously on top of his head. Prussia hadn't been this worried since that time Germany had refused beer in front of their soldiers.

Meanwhile, Germany sits in his office, finishing up his journal and reports, including how his brother was acting so strange. He had been hearing Prussia pacing back and forth, making the noises that he usually made when he was upset over something. Germany closes the journal, and looks towards the door, noticing that the house was silent now. Not a peep rose over the steady tick of the clock now, even Gilbird had stopped chirping. Prussia had been quiet for a while now, not a sound coming from his brother's mouth. He had questioned Prussia earlier why he had yelled while on the phone, but Prussia had refused to answer, claiming everything was fine, and that "the Awesome Me" had it handled. Germany looks towards the living room, almost able to feel the tension in the area, Prussia giving off an uneasy feeling. If the two brothers weren't so close, Germany probably would've never even noticed it. But he did, and it worried him as well.

_Could Prussia be keeping something from me?_

Germany sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. He couldn't figure out anything that the older brother would have to hide from him. Germany stops, looking towards the door as he hears a noise. Prussia, however, jumps up as fast as he could, rushing towards the door, hearing the small timid knock on the door. Germany listens in confusion, seeing Prussia arrive at the door, finally seeing his brother since he had been acting so strange. His silver hair was a mess, spiked out every which way from his worried hands running through it. He had small bags under his eyes and a sort of pained look to them. All in all, Prussia had seen better days. Germany sighs, turning around in his swivel chair, seeing that something was eating his brother up. He could do nothing else but not pay him no mind and to not ask questions that weren't wanted.

_He would've told me by now if he wanted me to know. _

"I got it!" Prussia yells out, arriving at the door.

Prussia stands on tippy toes and peeks through the peep hole, trying to figure out who it was at the door. He strains to see, the peep hole all dark, and a strange swirl in it. He stretches up higher and gasps in shock. All he saw was the inside of a gun barrel, the metal swirled towards the bullet, to spin it for accuracy and deadly force. He yelps out and ducks just in time to avoid a bullet to the head, the wood splintering around him. Gilbird is scared stiff, the bullet just whizzing past his wing, the bird feeling the heat off the bullet and hearing the loud bang of the gunshot. Gilbird screeches and takes off of Prussia's head, heading for the kitchen and for safety. Prussia presses his back against the door as the person outside tries to kick it down, to get in. Prussia wasn't about to let that happen. Meanwhile from in Germany's office a loud _thunk_ was heard, the chair clattering to the ground. The wind knocked out of him, Germany gasps out, trying to get up as quick as he could, despite having no air in his lungs. He takes a deep breath coughing as he struggles on the floor. Germany picks himself up. He had fallen backwards out of his chair, trying to get to the door after hearing the bullet. He stumbles out of the office, making his way for the front door.

_Gunshot? We are under attack? I have to help mien Bruder!_

Prussia looks up as Germany dashes into view, his red eyes wide in fear, almost all red now. Germany freezes briefly at the sight; he had never seen his brother this scared, never in all of his life, not even when he was handed over to Russia after WW2.

"West! Get out of he-" A shot is heard throughout the house, the two brothers freezing.

Germany, frozen, looks at his brother, the man trembling now. The lock had been shot out, Prussia tensing up in pain and fear as the shot echoes through the small area. Prussia trembles as he places a hand over his abdomen, seeing blood soaking into his dark blue uniform, making it black. He looks up at Germany, his red eyes wide in fear as he slumps to the ground, shot in the stomach.

"Preußen!" Germany looks in horror as his brother slumps to the ground, the door slowly swinging open.

Germany runs over to his brother and stands in front of the door, grabbing his gun to shoot whoever had shot his brother right between the eyes. He wasn't about to let them get away with such a bold action towards the only family he knew. He stops, looking in confusion as the person kicks the door to speed it up, gun in hand.

_Italia? But how, why?_

The German gasps in disbelief as Italy turns the gun on him, walking towards him, a dark look to his eyes. Germany backs up, dropping his gun and staring into the blood thirsty eyes of his best friend.

"Italy?" he gulps out. "What are you doing?" His blue eyes widen in fear as he realized what was happening.

Italy smirks, his eyes shining in mischief. "I'm going to kill you, Germany," he puts simply, as if he was discussing the weather.

Germany is backed into the living room, his heartbeat pounding inside his head, adrenaline rushing through his veins. He saw Prussia trying to get up, but falling back down, too weak to help him out of this mess. He was alone in this battle; his bruder would be no help to him. Germany looks back at Italy, not believing what he had just said. He continues to back up, his mind rushing around, trying to think of a logical explanation to this.

_This can't be happening, Italy wouldn't do this._

He continues to strain his brain, but for a different reason. Instead of trying to figure out what was happening, he now was focused on getting out of this stand-off, seeing the Italian was dead-serious. Suddenly he feels himself falling, trying to catch himself on something, anything to halt his descent. He yells as he backs over the kickstand of the chair, flailing his hands in shock. Unknowing to him the kickstand had been moved to the middle of the floor so Prussia could pace. Now the foot stool was Germany's downfall. He falls, his head hitting the ground, his legs draped over the kickstand. He cringes, grinding his teeth and holding his head in his hands as the pain shoots through his head, a now throbbing pain to add to his list of worries.

He looks up painfully, one eye looking as Italy stood over him, gun pointed still. "W-Why? I...I thought we we're friends...Feliciano." He stares into Italy's amber eyes, his own eyes filled with tears. "You are my best friend, Italy, why do you want to kill me?" he manages out, his voice catching in his throat.

Italy scoffs, "The way you treated me during the first war and how you treated me in the second one, we're not friends. We were never friends, Germany." He says, Germany looking in disbelief.

"Italy... h-how could you say that?" Germany gasps out.

Italy smirks. "Germany~" Italy says sweetly, looking straight at Germany. He chuckles. "We were never friends, you can't tell me you didn't notice. All those times I called you my friend, or hugged and kissed you, or even made all those petty promises: it was all a lie. We were never friends. You actually fell for that stuff?" Italy laughs, Germany shuddering at the crazed sound. "You beat me up, you held me prisoner. You really think someone would be your friend after being hit in the face with a gun?" Italy shakes his head, smiling down at Germany.

"I... I... I though... Feli..." Germany tries to form the words, the welling up in his throat from the sobs trying to break free not letting him.

He was hurt, hurt from the severity of Italy's words, and the truthfulness of them. He couldn't deny them, what Italy had said was the truth. Germany knew it from the beginning and had questioned how he could have a friend like Italy. Now he was told he never had a friend. Germany couldn't believe it. He refused to believe it.

"Now, it's time for you to pay." Italy aims the gun at Germany's head, his amber eyes locking onto Germany's light blue ones, quivering from the tears.

Germany was in denial, just looking up at Italy, tears streaming down his face. He couldn't believe what was happening. Italy looks crazily down at Germany, his smirk becoming a Joker smile, spread from ear to ear. The look scared Germany, down to the core of his heart that was now broken. Germany tries to pick out a shard of kindness or regret in Italy's eyes, only to find hatred, and vengeful eyes.

_Italy. Why would you say that, how could it be true?_

Flashbacks of all the fun times they had together, flash through the German's mind. Of Italy trying to kiss him, only to hurt his feet and have to have Germany bend down and kiss him instead. Of him and Italy wishing on a shooting star, only for Italy's wish to come true the next day. Of all the times he had scolded Italy, or helped Italy out of the Allies clutches, or even chased him down to make sure the forgetful Italian forgot his pants. He had been with Italy through everything, from war to even happier times. Even after war, they still hung out, picnicking, and just being near each other. Italy painting, Germany watching him and making sure he wasn't hurt. Germany starts to feel the sadness trying to leak its way out of his chest, remembering the time Italy had gotten sick, and he had cared for him while he was bed ridden. Germany had been so worried that the Italian was going to die, but Italy had pulled through, despite everything. He remembered the promises they had both made, to protect one another, and to help each other out if they ever got into trouble. To always be there, no matter what. Now, Italy had told Germany that they had all been lies. He couldn't believe that, he refused to. It was real. It was never a lie for him. He looks up, seeing Italy's finger tense up, to pull the trigger.

_It's__ impossible, he was my friend. He still is my friend. Something is wrong here, Italy would never do this. He is a silly boy who loves pasta and pizza, he chases after cats and plays with them constantly. He gets into trouble often, and he can't even tie his __shoelaces__ yet. His behavior confuses me daily, but I know one thing for certain, Italy could never hurt a soul, it isn't in his nature. Like Italy once told me, __h__e loved to create things, he loved to paint. __H__e just couldn't bring himself to even hold a gun. He'__d __rather create than destroy. __It's__ just not in Italy's soul to kill. This isn't Italy. This can't be the real Italy. I have to stop him__. H__e's still in there somewhere. I have to- _

A shot rings out.

o0O0oo0O0o0O0o

Germany flinches, but doesn't close his eyes, seeing that Italy's hand didn't even move. The room goes quiet, Germany realizing that Italy had never shot the gun, the finger never moving. Germany looks in confusion and shock at Italy. What was that noise he had heard, he knew he had heard a gun. He couldn't have just made up the noise in his panic could he? Germany looks up, seeing the grin wiped off of Italy's face, a look of shock and disbelief instead. He was frozen, his amber eyes wide, dropping his gun to the floor in a clatter, gasping out raggedly. Germany's stomach knots up, realizing that the gun shot he had heard didn't hit him, but rather hit Italy. Italy looks down, looking like his old self again, only scared, very scared and hurt. He gasps as he sees a red stain forming where his heart was, the blue fabric torn where the bullet has went through. Germany can only stare in shock, his blue eyes filled with tears as he sees Italy stumble backwards. Italy looks desperately around in pure horror and fear as his heart beats spastically in its death race. His eyes grown dull, the life draining out of him, him falling to the ground, coughing and gasping, trying to take in the sweet life giving oxygen. It would do nothing for him now, the damage done, the rampaged ended. Germany can only watch as Italy starts to move slower, his breaths coming out as gasps, hardly able to keep his eyes open. Germany begins to cry, seeing his best friend dying before his very eyes, even if Italy had tried to kill him. The sight as Italy stops breathing, his whole body shuddering as he gave up, was heartbreaking to the German. Germany sobs, the one friend he had managed to make gone forever, in one fell swoop. Germany looks up, stopping his sobbing at the person behind Italy, the gun trembling in their hands. Germany's tears are still flowing, but he couldn't believe it. He looks upon his savior, the one who shot Italy, looking just as shocked and scared as he was. He gasps out, even more confused than before.

_It can't be! What is going on here? This isn't possible!_

His savior was-

**Mixalis: You killed Italy...and I thought I was Heartless...**

**Keiko: I told you, this was a dream, now, the next chapter will come out in a little while.**

**Mixalis: You killed Italy..**

**Keiko: You've said this already.**

**Mixalis: ****And**** you said this was the chapter I was waiting for, who saved Germany? Who had the guts to pull the trigger and kill sweet innocent Italy?**

**Keiko: (Smiles crazily) You will find out soon enough, ve.**

**Mixalis: Eep...You ok? (Hads over Pepsi) You can have it, just...stop smiling...(Runs out of the room, yelling)**

**Keiko: WOW. (Looks normal) The Joker smile really does creep people out...OH! This is the first time I've scared Mixalis...YATTA! I scared my Nobody..this is amazing! Ok, but this chapter was very short, but there was a reason for this. You'll see in the next chapter. In the first World War, Italy was captured by Germany and held prisoner. And history teaches us that in the second, Italy joined the allies after America came ****into**** the war. The remaining Italian troops that were in German occupied countries were ****immediately**** sent to the Concentration camps...so I imagine Italy was treated horrible by the German Troops ****during**** that time as well. So, Italy would have ****resentment**** to that. And... another reward if you can guess who hid it in them to kill Italy. Just like with the England chapter. All you do is leave your answer in a review, and I will draw, write a story for you, or a pick of a story idea I am working on to post, and your choice ****will**** automatically be posted. It may take a while for your prize but be patient, I am a college student... so... I will get it to ****you ASAP****. And plus... we all have our bad years, this one happens to be mine, and my updates are very slow this year. I haven't updated most of my stories since my birthday, so be patient. Grazie, and a moment of silence for Italy Feliciano Vargas... Veneziano... **

**TT_TT**

((Psst~ BETA says she knows~ 9w9 Cuz she was told w … wait.. NO FAIR! YOU GAVE IT AWAY, JERK AUSHI! :U … I'M SORRY I'M SLOW SOMETIMES TTATT but I have school too, sadly….))

Oh and ps btw, I do have good news. I do have a Girlfriend. I forgot to mention it in the last chapter so I thought I mention it here~ I love you Zexy~ *kisses* I hope you have a better day today. Woke up at 8 am, can you believe it, with no alarms.

**ANd here is the translation from this chapter AND last chaoter cause I am too lazy to go back and change it, and I hope you all yesterday used Google translator or something. I sorry. *hugs everyone***

_German_

_Hilfe!- Help!_

_Hilfe bitte!- Help please!_

_SCHUSS?- SHOT?_

_Wo haben die Dinge gehen bei uns falsch?- Where did things go wrong with us?_

_Preußen- Prussia_


	9. North Italy

Chapter 9: North Italy

I feel the gun in my hands go off, the recoil of the gun catching me by surprise, almost throwing the weapon from my hands. I cringe as I hear the person gasping out as the bullet when through them. I was shaking, scared and confused, just watching everything that happening. I couldn't figure out what was going on; everything was happening so fast. I just watch as the guy falls, his limp form sprawled across the floor. The darkening stain on the carpet below him let me know he was dead, the life flowing out of him. It made me sick to my stomach, it twisting and knotting at the thought of killing another living thing. I then start to notice the details that had had me frozen in shock and confusion in the first place, watching the guy fuss out Germany. The first thing I was drawn to was his auburn hair blowing as he fell, my auburn hair. The red locks were now still on the ground, blood staining the askew strands. Then his blue uniform stained red and torn, my uniform. The words he had spat out, he said them in my voice. Mine. The lies painted with my tongue were damaging, they hurt me badly. They sounded true, but they weren't. My hair, my clothes, my voice, me, I watched as I died. I watched as the life pooled out of me, I watched as I gasped out. My last breath. It was me. Germany looks sadly down at the fallen guy. No, not the guy, me. Germany looks mournfully down at me, on the ground, the pool of blood growing steadily. Germany starts to sob hysterically while I was still standing in fear, the gun trembling in my hands. I was so scared, confused, and horrified I couldn't unclench my hands from the pistol. Germany looks up at me and freezes, his sobs ceasing. His eyes grow wide, the pearls of water flowing down his cheeks, dropping onto the ground. He never cried. Never once had I even seen him tear up, not even when he was separated from Prussia. I had made him cry. The rare gems glistening on his face, matching his ice blue eyes. I don't like seeing Germany sad. I had made him sad, and regretted it. I was holding onto the gun in my hands for dear life, it still aimed at myself on the floor, shaking badly.

"Italy?" Germany breathes out, surprising me.

I yelp, dropping the gun and backing up in fear. Germany was probably mad at me for killing the guy, for killing me. I shrink back, shaking in terror, knowing he was going to attack me. After all, I had killed myself.

"Scusa! Scusa!" I yell out, shielding my face. "I didn't mean to, I don't know! I came home and Spain and Romano were dead!" I shrink back, trembling now, my arms wrapped around my head, backing more away. "Then I went to Austria's house but France shot at me! I ran here for help and saw Prussia hurt and then..." I break down, and start sobbing, everything just overwhelming me. "Why does he look like me, ve?" I sit down on the ground, my head in my hands as I started to sob. "Why did he hurt everybody I love, ve? Why is everybody shooting at me, ve? Ve...eee..." I feel arms wrap around me in a desperate bear hug, sobbing harder. "What did I do wrong, ve...veeee?" I say, clinging to the strong arms around me.

Germany shushes me, petting my head to try and calm me, clutching me close to his chest, "It's okay; you're okay," he sobs out, rubbing my back. "You did nothing wrong, nothing. You saved me, you're the best friend I could ever have." He takes a deep breath, seeming to try and stop crying, to hold it together. "I'm so glad you're okay, Feliciano. Thank you, I knew that wasn't you, it wasn't you, it couldn't have been you, you would never do that. It will be okay, I promise," Germany says, his voice trembling in fear or in sadness, I couldn't tell.

His words comfort me, and make me feel warm. But I'm still terrified out of my mind, just clutching to Germany for protection. I don't know what to do, I had just killed someone, and not just anyone: me. I had killed myself. I break down, sobbing into Germany's shoulder. Why did that _thing_ have to look like me?

o0O0oo0O0oo0O0o

Germany shushed Italy, the nation trembling and sobbing into his shoulder, shaken by the ordeal. He sighs, happy that Italy was ok and that everything would be fine now. He looks up, hearing a noise and spotting Prussia stumble into the living room, holding his stomach, and panting badly. Prussia looks around in confusion, not understanding what the heck had happened. He was still trying to piece together everything he had just saw in the few minutes that had went by. He just saw Italy rush through the door, not once, but twice! And besides the fact of seeing double, he had been bleeding out onto the floor, his mental stability disappearing with the lifeblood. Then he had heard the one thing that made his heart stop, he had heard a gunshot. Worried for his brother's life and still confused about the double Italy's, wondering if he had tunnel vision, the albino had managed to push himself up. He pushes himself to get into the next room, to help his brother. Even if he couldn't stand straight, all he needed to do was locate the attacker and fall on him. Falling was one thing he could do right now. His eyes scan the room, worried for his brother's safety, looking from couch to the TV and the phone on the couch. He stops, seeing Germany hugging Italy tightly, the little nation shivering more than Latvia after Russia had almost killed him. Prussia sighs out, but then stops, his eyes focusing on something beside them. He shakes his head, trying to figure out what the heck was going on. Was he really seeing double now? Besides Germany and Italy, was another Italy, only this one was lifeless and laying on the ground in a pool of blood. Prussia smiles, seeing Italy and Germany were ok. Those two his only concern at this point. Suddenly he is yanked out of his happy place, a firm hand pulling him out of the way, a gun clicking as the safety was taken off.

Italy hears the click and clings tighter to Germany, his eyes closed on fear and desperation, his body trembling in pure terror.

France pants in the middle of the living room, his clothes covered in blood and his limbs shaking from the run here. He had chased after Italy for miles until he lost him, knowing he would come here, the only other person he would ever have beef with. Now, France had Italy in his sights, and he wasn't going to let Italy hurt anyone, anymore. He would end this once and for all.

"Germany, stand back!" France says, his finger on the trigger, and his vision focused on the Italian clutched in his arms, seeing nothing else.

Italy clings even tighter to Germany, his stomach twisting in fear, he didn't want to die. He was scared out of his mind, unable to move. Italy tenses up, Germany glaring at France as the nation keeps his aim steady. Germany grabs Italy and pushes him behind him, standing in front of Italy to stop France from shooting him.

"Nein! Wait, let me explain." He says, holding his arms out, shielding Italy from any possible hit.

France tenses up, his brow furrowed in anger at the gesture. Germany was protecting Italy, the guy who was going around hurting everybody. He knew any minute Italy would attack Germany, this was just an act he was putting on, to trick him. The sly fox was crafty and pulling Germany into its little game, to make him protect him, and France wasn't going for it. France pushes Prussia back, as the former nation tries to get the gun from his hands, his weakened condition making it impossible to overpower France. France wouldn't fall for Italy's act; he would stop this killing spree, before it had a chance to start.

France growls, yelling out the demand. "Germany, move aside, he has tried to kill 4...no 5...6 nations already! Now move!" He squeezes the trigger slightly, the cold metal in his hands. "I will shoot through you Germany, no-"

"There are two Felicianos!" Germany blurts out, seeing that France was serious, and was focusing in on just him and Italy.

France stops, bewildered for a minute, his hands falling to the side. "Germany say what?" He says in awe, his face a mixture of emotions at this point.

From what Germany could see it was a mixture of fear, anger, sadness, confusion, rage, and anxiety, with a tad of bewilderment added just for good measure.

Germany motions over to the dead guy on the ground, the pool of blood surrounding him, as France stares now blankly ahead of him at the body. Italy trembles in fear, looking at France with wide amber eyes, wondering if he would be mad that he killed the other Italy as well.

_France isn't going to be happy, I killed myself. He's going to kill me now!_

France stares at the body on the ground, wondering how much wine he had had today, the only explanation he could find to this situation. He feels a twang of sadness in his chest, looking upon the dead Italy, but then stops, remembering that there was more than one Italy in the room. But...was the alive Italy the real Italy. France clings to his gun tighter, his anger flaring up slightly. Italy yelps and trembles, drawing France's attention, the older nation looking him straight in the eyes, the two staring at each other. France tears up, seeing pure fear in Italy's eyes, no sign of the coldness he saw in the other Italy's eyes as he faced him down behind the wardrobe. Only the pure innocence of the Ita-chan he loved and cherished. Germany sees the two nations locked in a staring contest, thinking France was about to try and finish his threat from earlier.

Germany clears his throat, catching France's attention. "Italy just saved my life, shooting this...thing." Germany looks at the dead guy. "Whatever it is."

France looks at the gun in his hands and back at Italy, feeling regret pooling in his stomach at what he had been about to do. He lets go, the deadly weapon clattering to the round as he smiles kindly, the tears making their way down his cheeks. He rushes over, embracing Italy as he burst into tears of happiness, clinging to the stunned Italian.

_He's... he's not mad?_

"I knew you wouldn't do this Italy, I knew you didn't hate us!" France says as Italy clings to him, just wanting comfort after his horrific ordeal. "You are too kind and loving to even think of this. I'm sorry I ever even let that cross my mind, Feli."

Everybody looks up as Prussia groans, holding onto his stomach, looking pale. "Um… excuse me..." he coughs, cringing in pain at the movement of his stomach. "The awesome me is in need of medical service, bitte," he manages out, looking feverish. "I can only bleed so much before I run out of blood…."

France lets go of Italy, rushing over to stop Prussia from falling to the floor, holding the former nation upright. He supports Prussia on his shoulder, looking at Germany, smiling as tears still clung to the corners of his eyes. "Germany, stay here with Italie, I'll take Prusse and see if ..." He stops, hearing a noise as the door was slammed open once more.

The nations look up as a disheveled looking Britannia Angel rushes in, out of breath and furious. He leaps into the living room, feathers falling from his wings and his halo lop sided from his running and his experience with the dead Italy. He was glaring around with his bright green emerald eyes, not pleased at all with being almost killed by one of the weakest nations. His pride wouldn't let the Italian get away with it, he would show him who the Former Empire of Northern Ireland and Great Britain was, and Italy wouldn't escape from him this time.

He looks mad, livid even as he searches around for Italy, revenge on his mind. "I'll kill him, shooting mate...who does he think he is dealing with. I'm a damn empire for cripes sake. Let me at him, I'll..." He stops, spotting the dead guy on the ground and Italy looking worse for wear. He stares from one to the other, and then looks at the people in the room. He was hoping he was seeing double from the exhaustion, but there was no escaping the truth. He groans slapping his forehead and growling, knowing exactly what had happened. He shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose as he breathes out the answer. "A doppelganger…."

You could've heard a pin drop in the room, everyone looking at England in confusion. From both his choice of wear, and the words he had used to describe the dead Italy. "Doppelganger?" They all reply, not understanding what the heck he was talking about.

England sighs, straightening his halo and looking up at Italy, nodding his head in a silent apology. He smiles in relief, glad that it wasn't Italy after all, sighing out as Italy still looked around the room. He was still fearful, thinking he had did something wrong.

_I know they are mad at me. Any minute now they will hurt me._

England studies the nation, seeing him frightful, seeming to give off the feeling of a rabbit trapped in a room full of hunting dogs, with nowhere to hide. It was as if he had accepted his fate, and was just preparing for the fussing out or possibly the punishment he knew was coming. England walks up to him Prussia trying to keep a straight face as he noticed just how short England's current uniform was. Germany however was just looking in annoyance, about ready to throw his pants at the nation, to cover up. England kneels down in front of Italy, looking him dead on, his arms crossed over his knees.

He looks kindly at Italy, trying to speak softly as if he was speaking to an easily spooked unicorn. "Italy...you okay?" He sees the nation shivering still, unable to stop.

Italy shakes his head. "I just killed myself, would you be okay, ve?" he says, tears streaming down his face, starting to hiccup from the stress.

The nations look down, finally realizing what Italy must be going through. Germany groans, placing a hand on Italy's quivering shoulder, Italy almost leaping out of his skin, but staying put. France looks as he sees Prussia cringing in pain, his blood still dripping on the carpet. He turns and helps Prussia out the door, assuring his friend he was going to be okay now. England meanwhile stands up, knowing Germany would be the only one able to really cheer up the Italian at this point. The angelic nation plops down on the chair, needing to take a break and figure out things. He needed to put together his knowledge of what had happened, to figure out the explanation to why there were two Italy's, one of whom was a dead psychopath. As the rest of the nations seem to disappear, leaving Italy alone, Germany sighs, kneeling down beside Italy, hugging the scared-to-death nation tightly. The Italian at first freezes up, still expecting something bad to happen, but then clings to Germany, sobbing again. Germany shakes his head in sadness, wishing he knew what to do to help Italy during this time. He didn't know how much therapy Italy would need after this, but he would stick with him, no matter what. After all, Italy was his only friend besides Japan. He knew that now more than ever. This experience, though haunting, made Germany know for sure that he and Italy were close. They had a bond that nothing could sever and they were there for each other no matter what. Italy had saved his life; nobody else would've done that besides Prussia. Italy just clings tightly to Germany, finally coming to his senses.

_That monster almost killed Germany. I almost lost Germany! I don't know what I would do without Germany. It would break me. I can't lose another person I love._

He wraps his arms around Germany's neck, bringing the nation close to him, Germany gasping at the sudden movement. He sighs and pats his back, trying to calm the sobs trembling through the shorter nation. Germany looks at the dead guy as Italy clings tightly to him, the nation just wanting to feel Germany, to make sure he was there, and this wasn't a dream.

_No, __it's__ not a dream. This is a nightmare. A twisted nightmare that won't go away and almost killed Germany. And won't wake up from this one._

As Italy just clings to him, making sure he was breathing and unharmed, Germany shudders, remembering the dead Italy's face twisted into that evil smile, realizing how close he was to dying himself. The German had one thought on his mind at this point, only one simple question.

_Who the hell was that?_

o0O0oo0O0oo0O0o

The house was eerily quiet, the ticking of the clock was the only noise heard in the house. Italy was halfway asleep in Germany's arms on the couch, finally calmed down from his experience, dead hour closing upon them. Italy sighs, and snuggles more into Germany's arms, the nation asleep on the couch, not letting go of the smaller nation. Italy felt relaxed and protected against Germany's muscular body, at peace for the first time since all this drama had emerged. England has fallen asleep in the chair, still dreaming up ideas of what was going on. Italy barely hears the multitude of footsteps coming up the gravel outside, slowly falling asleep and joining the others in peaceful slumber. Suddenly Italy perks up, hearing to door open and looking as the light came on in the front room. At Italy's movement Germany wakes up and looks around, hearing footsteps coming towards the living room. He sits up, seeing his brother walk in, his stomach wrapped up and his uniform coat draped over his shoulders, smirking at him. Italy sits calmly on the couch. France walks in, motioning for the rest to come on, the lights coming on, startling England wake as well, seeing everyone coming in, straightening his halo and toga. Switzerland helps Austria into the house, Hungary following behind him, a green rabbit clutched in her arms. England brightens up at the sight of his familiar safe and sound in the female nation's arms. Italy looks in shock as the last two people come in, his eyes watering up. Spain walks in, looking a lot better than the last time Italy had seen him. He was ok, his clothes covering up what bandages he had on. He turns around and helps another nation through the door, looking a little more damaged. Italy feels the tears flowing down his cheeks as he spots Romano, alive. Spain grunts, helping Romano in as he struggled with his newly acquired crutches, bandages wrapping around his head, leg and shoulder. Italy's eyes grow wide in joy.

_Fratello, Spain... __T__hey are alive! _

Everybody seems at ease, a little sorrowful looking but more relieved at still being alive. Then the house grows quiet once more, everybody spotting Italy sitting beside Germany, smiling at them happily. The tension in the room flares up and everybody leaps into action at seeing the Italian standing before them. Spain stands protectively in front of Romano, glaring hatefully at Italy. The sudden movement makes Italy back up in reflex, seeing everyone immediately on the defense. Switzerland is already on the attack, the gun being pulled expertly out of its hiding place, pointing it straight at Italy.

"I thought you said he was dead, France," Spain declares, Italy wincing at the tone of his voice: low and filled with hate for the short nation.

Prussia is the first one to react and grabs Switzerland's hand, yanking the gun down. "Hold your horses, Swiss," Prussia says, Switzerland throwing him a death glare, and trying to get his hand out of Prussia's grasp. A vision of him hitting the albino with the pistol so he could shoot Italy before anything happened. "Let West explain what happened." He motions for Germany to start talking, all eyes on the two nations.

Italy looks around, catching hateful glares directed at him, shaking. He didn't understand why they were all so mad, when he was just happy to see them alive and breathing. He hides behind Germany, on the verge of tears, his small frame trembling like crazy. Germany sighs, looking back at Italy, staring lovingly down on him. He motions for the rest of the guys to follow him, pushing Italy in front of him as they head to the back room, more for protection from the rest of the nations than to keep an eye on him. The rest, including England, follow still glaring hatefully at Italy, the nation almost in tears. They head into the room, Germany motioning towards the corner. You could hear a pin drop in the room, the nations going from angry to in shock, not believing the sight before them. The dead guy is slumped in the corner, his eyes dull and lifeless: the same eyes as Italy. The clear red circle of blood on the front of the torn and worn blue Italian uniform showed that their attacker was certainly dead. Romano pales in reaction to seeing the dead person, an exact replica of his own flesh and blood brother. Spain just stares, unable to comprehend how he was seeing two of Italy, wondering if that was Italy's ghost standing beside Germany. Hungary holds Austria's hand, Austria himself seeming to take the shock well, not even letting his jaw drop in disbelief. Romano meanwhile is still frozen, his bottom lip trembling, his eyes threatening to spill the hot tears welling up.

"That... is your attacker," Germany says, patting Italy on the back, the shaken person jumping in surprise. "Italy actually saved my life, shooting this 'Thing' before it shot me." Germany gestures towards the dead man.

Romano turns away from the dead guy, looking at his little brother in regret. Here his brother was trembling and scared with everyone against him, and he was innocent as he ever was. He was scared and in need of his big brother. Romano wasn't about to let his brother be comforted by the Kraut, and not him. Everyone looks as Romano tosses down his crutches, Spain moving out of the way before one hit his side. Italy stares wide eyed as he limps over, grasping his little brother in a warm embrace, the tears flowing down his face.

"I knew it wasn't you, Fratello. I'm so sorry." He looks Italy in the eyes. "Where we're you North? Where did you go?" he asks, wondering how he escaped from being shot by the dead guy.

Italy gulps, seeing the rest of the nations looking at him, no longer mad, just very upset with themselves for thinking he would ever attack them and try to do anything like kill them. They instead look down lovingly at him, relieved he was ok. They were curious, though, to know exactly what had happened to him, and where the Italian had been this whole time. Italy looks at Romano and takes a deep shuddering breath, and starts his long speech gesturing with both hands.

Italy sighs. "Um...well... I knew you were having a bad day, so… I wanted to cheer you up. I was going to make pizza and I had all the ingredients laid out, ready to cook it. Except tomatoes. We were out of tomatoes. You need to stop throwing tomatoes at everyone, Romano. Anyway, I called Spain-san to see if he could bring me some tomatoes so I could make the pizza. He said he didn't have any though so I left for the store, so I could make you happy. At the store, I saw Greece and we got to talking about cats and siestas and some other things and before I knew it, an hour had went by and I realized you were probably already home." He looks at Spain and then back at Romano. "When I came home... you... you two were... dead." He closes his eyes, tears streaming down as he remembered the mess he had walked into: the sight of Spain on the ground, his hand clenched tightly around the house phone, blood pooling around him. He had frozen in shock, dropping the bag of groceries on the ground and ran into the house to find his brother sprawled out in the hallway. He had frozen in fear, his amber eyes tearing up and his hand over his mouth at the heart skipping sight. He then turn and ran from the house, screaming for help. "I ran from the house, to get help, but no one heard me so then I headed back for the store, to see if Greece was still there. But, by time I got there, no one was there. I then went to Austria's house and saw all the bullet holes and the lock shot out. I saw blood... and... and I went looking for Austria-san and Hungary-chan but... instead I saw England and France-nii-chan. France-nii-chan grabbed..." He chokes on his words, tearing up as he looks up at France. "Grabbed a gun and shot at me, trying to kill me." France winces, realizing that he had almost killed the wrong Italy, his stomach churning in guilt. "I ran, not knowing why France-nii-chan would try and kill me, ve. I then ran here and saw... Prussia. He looked confused at me and then looked towards the living room, where I heard Germany calling my name." Italy pauses, trying to keep himself together, "That guy... he had my voice, my hair, my uniform. He was saying hateful lies to Germany, saying we were never friends, ve. He went to shoot Germany and I... I... I grabbed the gun that Germany had given me... and... shot him. I shot myself, ve... Why did he look like me...?" Italy grabs his hair in confusion. "What's going on, ve?" He finally collapses, clutching tightly onto Romano, the older brother almost falling under the weight of the younger terrified one. "What did I do wrong? Why were you all glaring at me? What did I do, ve?" he yells out sobbing.

Germany sighs, walking over and hugging Italy, Romano not even minding that he was in the group hug.

"You didn't do anything wrong, Feliciano, that thing over there di-" Germany stops, his heart skipping a beat as he looked at the thing.

He couldn't believe his eyes.

The supposedly dead guy was glaring at the nation, struggling to get up now, his amber eyes bright in hate. The nations yell in fright, Switzerland struggling to get his gun out that he had put away. Romano pushes Italy behind him, desperate to protect his little brother from the dead guy, Italy yelping in fear. The thing glowers, growling as he saw that all his victims, including Romano were alive and well, his Vendetta had failed. He didn't know why there was a guy there that looked just like him, but he would kill him as well. But for now he was too weak right now, and outnumbered. He feints at the nations, them yelling and backing up. He dashes instead for the window, jumping through the glass and rushing into the woods.

France gulps. "Where'd he go?"

Prussia and England rush to the window, just seeing the fleeing guy enter the woods and disappear. "Bloody hell, he escaped!"

Italy meanwhile has rushed over to Germany, everything just too much for the nation, clinging desperately to him. He was trembling more than ever now, scared for life. Germany clutches onto him, determined not to let anything happen to him. The rest of the nations are in a panic, realizing that the thing was still on the loose, and wasn't afraid of killing anybody. It had now seen Italy, and that meant that he was the prime target now. There could only be one Italy, and the thing would make sure it was itself. Feliciano was its next victim.

**The next chapter will be up soon. This and the last chapter was the first dream I had, from reading inquisitive dreams's story. ****The**** other chapters were from the sickness dream. I haven't figured out what the next chapter will explain, because...this is where it ended for me. I hope you enjoyed it. This is what happens when you get sick and have dreams...well for me anyway, it was one Twisted nightmare. OH and the prizewinners are… My girlfriend,** **MistressXofXCastleXOblivion****. She didn't know for starters people… I was surprised she guessed it right. She lives like…. 6 to 8 hours hours from me on the other side of North Carolina people. And another person by the name of ****EnergyEmber**** who guessed right as well. Just Pm me Energyember on what your prise will be okay. Only the first two people do I count, so sorry for anybody else that ****guessed**** afterwards.**

**Mixalis: This, was a very twisted nightmare, Italy killed Italy? How does that even work? And he came back to life? What the heck happened?**

**Keiko: I don't know how Italy had a ****Doppelganger**** or how it came back to life, I just need to figure it out. Hopefully something will come to me. Man, its 4:30 over here once again and I'm typing it up. This sucks, I really need to go to sleep ve. But I had to finish this up, so I could try and figure out the plot and fill in the blanks. If I can't, I probably leave it at this... hope I can figure it out.**

**Mixalis: (Shudders) This might give ME nightmares...**

**Keiko: Well, it was based on a nightmare where I was Italy and then I had to kill my ****Doppelganger**** to save Germany. So, it's pretty much this chapter, ve…I woke up crying.**

**Mixalis: Right, it's called the Twisted Nightmare, forgot.**

**Keiko: Baka...**

**Mixalis: What?**

**Keiko: Nothing, nothing... ugh... need sleep. Hope you enjoyed it.**

**((YEAH OF THE CHEETAH IS ALMOST ENDED TTATT. Nobody recognized the year of the cheetah as a year... I have failed in this mission... but..if you are one of the few who said...screw the tiger...year of the cheetah... put a X3 at the end of your review))**


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